


Longview

by Kitoko_kun



Series: Glory-holeverse [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Basement Gerard Way, Blow Jobs, Bottom Gerard Way, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Glory Hole, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Sexting, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Spit Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 69,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24583072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitoko_kun/pseuds/Kitoko_kun
Summary: Gerard is tired of jerking off in his basement and tries a new service.What was that place? A motel? Brothel? Well, no one was paying him for his services, so… Could it be classified as a bank? Certainly people were making a deposit.How could it be just there, in front of such a normal coffee shop? It’s not like it had a big sign that read “LIKE A GLORY HOLE, BUT TASTEFUL”, but it was still there pretending to be a relaxation center, which… they kind of were?
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Series: Glory-holeverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921372
Comments: 231
Kudos: 334





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

  * For [verbluten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verbluten/gifts).



The edge of a desk. Its loud thumps against the wall. Yes, Teacher. Harder. More thumps. Maybe someone is about to walk in, perhaps they see a silhouette through the window. Who is it? A third person? Dogs. No, go back. Your mom. NO. No, you’re losing it… Return to the video, the video has it. Skip ahead, not that part, when he takes off his shirt. That’s the one. Back to the desk. Close your eyes. Focus on the moaning, the desk, don’t think about anyone in your family… Did that remind you of them? SHIT. Better stop now. Or keep going? We’re already here. Open your eyes, watch the video, go forward, to the spanking. That one. YES. YES, YES, YEAH. That ass is getting red, desk, teacher… YES. FUCK YEAH.

Peace. Emptiness. Calm. Loud heart-beating. Breathe regulating. Eyes are open now, even though they weren’t really closed, just not working. The basement’s roof. Sticky hands, where is it? Ugh, on the t-shirt, obviously a black one. No problem, a sock will fix it, it doesn’t matter if it only spreads it instead of cleaning it, it’s only a matter of self-etiquette, of convincing himself he was doing self-care. Who would care if his t-shirt had cum stains?

It was time to get up and stare at the screen, confront the porn he was watching and be overwhelmed by feeling disgusted when the arousal to avoid judging himself was gone. Hearing those moans was revolting, he needed to turn it off soon. He closed all tabs feeling different levels of guiltiness and stayed in a black screen, watching the only thing that was actually worse: his reflection. And the orgasm wasn’t even worth it.

In theory, Gerard should have been living his best life. Full time devotion to drawing comics was already a dream come true and if he added the fact that they let him work from home —more precisely, his mother’s basement— there was nothing left to do but thank everybody and walk away triumphant. He was above the typical office trouble, there weren't people stealing his lunch or using his favorite mug, he didn’t have to listen to jokes about working hard or hardly working, nor pay attention to the weather just to have something to say. Shit, he didn’t even have to dress up so that he wouldn’t come across as a freak, or just shower at all! No one in his basement was going to email HR about how bad he stunk. It didn’t matter, he was his own co-worker and he actually liked himself quite a bit. If he had to do a self evaluation, he would be awarded a 10 for creativity, another 10 for meeting deadlines and okay, a 2 in hygiene. But who the fuck would care! 

The first few weeks —no, even the first few months were incredible. Getting that job meant his mother was finally off his back telling him to grow up. He probably still needed to, but now that he could pay some bills it was harder for her to tell him so. Yes, he was turning pedantic, and he thought he deserved to be a little bit after how much effort it took to build a semi-respectable name in the industry, along with trying to forget what the years of unemployment and self-loathing convinced he wouldn’t make it had done to his self-esteem. Too much time hating himself, now it was the era of self-love and appreciation and he tried many ways to accomplish just that in the first period.

He started by enjoying his salary. Just buying every damn figure and comic book he couldn’t afford before. There was also the investment in better equipment for his job, which somehow ended up backfiring because the lack of back pains and tendinitis made it harder for him to know when to stop working. Most of the time he spent days without sleeping, taking excellent 24 to 36-hour naps after. Healthy? Yes, of course. He didn’t care about living beyond 27 anyway, that was when rockstars died. Yes, he thought of himself as a rockstar.

Well, no, the illusion only lasted about 10 weeks. Without any reason to leave the comfort of his basement, Gerard frankly forgot how to be a person. Not that he was great at it before, but if it wasn’t for Mikey calling him occasionally and his mother demanding a weekly family meal, he might have forgotten how to speak altogether. Was talking a really useful skill? Just by wondering he was giving out a red flag, but he would need to actually tell somebody to realize.

It’s still kinda okay until now, right? In theory, remember. Because a man can’t only live for his work, and by work he meant: a creative accomplishment, large quantities of coffee and tons of nicotine, to later fall dead into bed and try to recharge the batteries. People needed more stuff and Gerard thought he had it all covered by his hobbies. Reading comic books was the most fun activity he could dream of, and to complete his fantasy world he got video games, watched movies and spent time on series, pretty colorful. What he underestimated was —perhaps painfully oblivious of him— human relationships. His life was filled with all the “love” he needed from his family and the love he was missing, well… He thought he didn’t need it? Seriously. Some people had lives revolving around love and finding their SOUL-MATES (ugh, gross), but Gerard wasn’t one of them, he couldn’t even sit through a romantic comedy without cringing and nervously laughing while making gag noises.

Mikey told him it would get better as he grew older, that it was normal to feel like that being young. What did Mikey know about growing up? Obviously less than Gerard, but he found himself nodding and eating the words that said “I don’t think so”. He was already 26 and had no romantic interest.

NONETHELESS, a sexual interest had arrived. And Gerard was gay, vastly confirmed by his porn browsing history and his not-at-all-innocent interest in anal stimulation. Of course the latter was nothing without the former, it was the combination which gave him an idea of his preferences. And as he did with all of his previous problems, he threw money at it: he bought dildos and vibrators that only solved how tedious his masturbatory routine had gotten for a couple of weeks, until it got boring again. It almost felt like a chore. Who could have known technology wasn’t the answer?

He had sadly begun to crave someone else’s touch. Hands, yeah, those he was never attracted to, but, how would it feel? He wanted the uncertainty of not knowing where or how he would be caressed because it wasn’t his own brain commanding it. What a concept, right? Surrender to another human being, let them explore his body, touch him even though they wouldn’t know his favorite spots. Maybe he could tell them, give out dirty instructions as the people in porn did, whisper or scream what he wanted and trust the other person was compassionate enough to do it. He had no idea if he was going to like it, his only hope lying in it being different than the monotonous and plastic experience he was already sick of. And of course he wanted to try having a cock inside of him. Seriously, what was that about? Sometimes he jerked off picturing it, but the second the plastic touched his ass the idea went to hell, being brought back too quickly to his unsatisfactory reality.

One of those times a quote came to his mind. It had been ages since he last heard that song, but _“when masturbation’s lost its fun you’re fuckin’ lonely.”_ Wise words. He _was_ fuckin’ lonely.

And you may be surprised, but Gerard tried. Yes, the same one who thought talking wasn’t a vital skill and that he didn’t need anyone else but his family HAD TRIED. HE TRIED AS HARD AS TO DOWNLOAD A DATING APP. YES, GERARD WAY, LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK. Certainly he did it in his own way, with his profile pic high in contrast, black and white and enough cigarette smoke to give himself an aura of mystery a guy who lived in his mother’s basement and took showers every three weeks clearly didn’t have. What? What was that last thing? No, of course not, Gerard took showers regularly… That was the official statement for anyone who swiped right on his profile.

And not many people did. Most of them didn’t bother to reply to him after a while and Gerard didn’t understand why, so he tried to follow a script he found in a pick up artist site —he was desperate, okay?— and that got him a date in a nearby cafe. The man he met didn’t turn around and leave the second he saw him, which he considered already a victory after reading horror stories of people who disappeared when they didn’t like how you looked. Actually, the guy told him he should take a better picture for his profile, that he didn’t need to hide behind high contrast and smoke. Gerard expressed how he wanted an artistic picture, commenting on people being boring and that he didn’t want to look like every other simpleton in that app. Something interesting to say, right? It was his opinion.

He thought the date went well until weeks passed by and the guy never talked to him again. The main issue was that he didn’t remember the date enough to analyze what went wrong. He tried asking the person —nothing left to lose— but he couldn’t get a reply from him. He also tried to take on a more active role and message people who had left him on read, until someone told him to stop being a creep.

Was he a creep? Seriously? He asked. The guy told him his picture was creepy and his bio as well, that he should stop talking about vampires, ghosts and piss. Well, his bio said he loved watching people throw up, but it was mostly a joke and he tried to explain it and got blocked, because no one in that app had a sense of humor. And why would Gerard want to date people who didn’t appreciate good comedy?

Oh, right, so that he could get fucked in the ass and go on with his life. Maybe you didn’t need a sense of humor for that.

Since that wasn’t going to work, Gerard changed his approach. He broke down the situation, sitting on his bed with a clearer head after his long introspection and that unsatisfactory self-groping. Truthfully, he was getting all of it wrong. All of it, just wrong. How could it have taken him so long to figure out? He didn’t need to date or meet anyone, it wasn’t romance what he was after, he only needed someone to fuck him. The end! Gerard lived happily ever after. Alone. Just as he liked it. 

He smiled to himself, proud of his new resolution, and said out loud: “To the Internet!”, because yes, being by himself for so long had made him even quirkier.

Once again he opened his laptop and an incognito window. How did you search something like that? Was it prostitution? Huh. He never thought of it before, but maybe it was time to see what the market had to offer. Wait… Was prostitution ethical? Yes, sure, sex work is valid work. Or was it a tool for Capitalism? Oh no, no, he was too needy to start debating himself about the morality of it all, please, it was crucial to shut down his thoughts for a while, just a little while, and after it he would be the most moral person in the entire world.

He took a look at the first results. Naturally he was a technology and internet native, but if a website had enough hindsight to work on their SEO, then they deserved his attention. Besides, it wasn’t like he could ask for references from people he knew… And yes, there were boards and other stuff to read real experiences, but he wanted sex, not literature, alright? Ugh, so many obnoxious thoughts and he hadn’t even tried to hire someone yet.

Being in front of the pictures felt like going through profiles in the date app. He looks too tall. Too goody two shoes. Has a face like he enjoys sports too much. That one has never smoked in his whole life and it shows. He didn’t want to meet up with someone who made him question his habits by showing him how much of a better person he was. And all that website had to offer were “perfect” guys. Could it be Photoshop? He raised his laptop inches from his eyes, squinting. There was at least some airbrushing. Anyway, he didn’t want swollen muscles nor square jaws. He didn’t want anything on that website, and the other ones had more of the same.

He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, which was long enough to touch his shoulders, curling a piece in his finger. Once he stopped, the piece of hair kept its shape, hinting it needed to be washed. Obviously Gerard wasn’t going to, but still.

If neither dating nor prostitution were the answer, what was left?

He made a disgusted face watching different devices promising to feel just like a real person. Silicon hands, asses, tits… Was it time to consider buying an android? No, no, Gerard, there had to be a closer alternative… 

He felt a sudden adrenaline rush when his mind went to a new concept: glory-holes. Perfect! Impersonal, to the point, quick, excellent service. How did he not think of that before?

Google had information, as always. It was fuckin’ gross. He made the mistake of clicking on the images first and each one of them was worse than the one before, without even mentioning the quantity of subdued women and the concept being related to restrooms. The holes in the stalls looked cut by the worst tools in the universe and even though Gerard wasn’t one to complain about cleanliness, he was complaining about cleanliness. Picture how fuckin’ filthy that was. 

Back to the websites tab, no more images for today.

He began losing hope and that meant putting up an ad on Craig’s list and play that twisted Russian roulette in which he could either manage to get an impersonal encounter with someone or end up on the news as a missing homosexual comic writer. Eh.

And of course this is the part of the story in which Gerard was incredibly lucky and found exactly what he was looking for: a matching service for people who wanted a glory-hole experience without really risking an STD and/or getting stabbed. Wow! Trendy. Kinky. Other keywords. Nothing was really safe from gentrifying.

Curiosity and hope sparked from his eyes as Gerard clicked the ad and was redirected to a website. Unlike the other ones, he didn’t see people, only the infrastructure they offered. Rooms that belonged in a hotel rather than a sex service establishment, decorated as if influencers were going to take pictures for their Instagrams there and the main event: a wall in the middle with a rather comfortable looking hole allowing the genitals of two anonymous people to meet and greet each other. Incredible. Was this made exclusively for him?

And it wasn’t a prostitution service, which brought immediate relief to his moral debate he very much cared about. He had to rent a room at a chosen time, the other person would do the same, and the company was responsible for uniting them. Amazing. He was convinced. And it was also done on a whim out of boredom and desperation, so he typed his personal information into the website, mentally begging for it not to be a scam, and scheduled a room for Friday at 18:00.

Wow, the sole idea of having a sexual date for Friday at 18:00 was kinda hot. Maybe he could jerk off in anticipation?

He looked down where the cum stains were drying and actually felt grossed out. He needed to get out of his house and get laid. Who knows, perhaps the waiting would make it even better.

***

What? How was his week? Pretty good, thank you for asking. He couldn’t say that he lost sleep because of the crazy adventure waiting for him, because he buried himself in work as he usually did and got into the “zone”, where his house could be on fire and he wouldn’t realize until the firemen pulled him out. Hopefully good looking ones.

But he did spend a few hours on that Friday staring at the ceiling and wondering how it would be, once he woke up at 14:00. Best scenario, it was satisfactory. Worst scenario, he no longer would be curious and that itch of knowing how it felt could finally be scratched. There was nothing to lose, except for money and maybe the illusion of the actual thing being better than his toys. Anyway, he would have an answer soon.

Having met the deadline for his work —way to go, Gerard!— he found little to focus on. He had started feeling as if it was the day before Christmas and there was no way his mind would let him go back to sleep; his heart kept beating out of control when he tried to plan out what route to take, what time to leave, what to wear… Did it matter what he was wearing? The other person wouldn’t see him. Perhaps he ought to focus on that it would actually be visible. Should he shave?

He stretched his pajama pants and took a look. Eh. He wasn’t going to lie by stating that his crotch had seen better days, honestly: he didn’t have even the smallest clue as to how to shave down there because he had never done it and starting now seemed like a terrible idea. It was basically an Adam Sandler movie waiting to happen. Nobody wanted to be in an Adam Sandler movie.

On a second thought, he may need another nap. Staying in bed under so many covers without moving was taking its toll and his eyelids felt so heavy… But what could possibly go wrong if he just shut his eyes for a few seconds...

He woke up because his phone vibrated on his face. Groggy, he checked the notification: “Please confirm your date for today. Remember to arrive 30 minutes in advance.”

He quickly pressed “yes” on his screen, right before his terrified eyes landed on the actual time. Shit, it was 17:00. He had to get out immediately if he wanted to arrive on time and avoid not getting a refund because he didn’t comply with the instructions which obviously were in a confirmation email he never read. He made a mental note to read the terms and conditions on the bus, because he barely knew what the fuck he was getting himself into.

A black hoodie was hastily grabbed from the floor along with Gerard’s wallet, keys, smokes and lighter, only the crucial. He stuffed everything in his pockets and went up the stairs getting inside his hoodie, running out of breath as soon as he set foot on the first floor.

“Wow. Where are you going?”

“Outside.”

That must have been the most suspicious thing he could’ve said to his mother and he knew it. Nonetheless, she smiled. “Have fun, sweetie.”

She surely was desperate for him to go out. He couldn’t decide between being offended or thankful. Frankly, he didn’t have time for either, so he smiled back at her and went for the door, taking a deep breath once he was outside. He also didn’t have time to doubt, he had been waiting for that all week and he wouldn’t lose his reservation, even if it meant losing his virginity out of spite. Revenge was sometimes a great motivation.

It was 17:29 when Gerard opened the door to a place that could easily be a laser hair removal clinic —was that the universe hinting something?— and he looked around, convinced he had the wrong place.

“Mr. Way?”

“Yes?”, he asked, jumping in his place, a bit scared to look at the receptionist.

“Are you Mr. Way? 18:00 appointment? Bottom?”

Gerard cleared his throat, trying to get serious even though she had just read out loud what he had asked for. He looked around and realized no one else was there besides another woman on the phone. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Follow me then. My name is Claire, I will show you to your room.”

With as much serenity as he managed to gather, Gerard followed her. He didn’t want to come off as a rookie in the subject, but he was an absolute rookie in the subject and many other subjects related to that first one. The hallway was pure white, why had they chosen that color? Was it to keep people calm? Did people lose their minds in that place? He opened his mouth to ask the question that didn’t need to be asked, but the woman pushed open one of the doors and pointed inside. “Here it is.”

“Oh”, he eloquently replied, taking a look. “Good.”

He sensed this was the first time in which the receptionist really looked at him and even though she didn’t make a clear unpleasant face she didn’t need to stare at him up and down to tell him he didn’t fit in that place. Actually, the way her smile got bigger was more telling than a disgusted expression. “Do you need me to explain the system?”

“No, I don’t think so”, he said. “I mean, someone comes and gets on the other side and that’s it, right?”

“To summarize, yes. The reason behind the person on the receiving end getting here first is to give them time to prepare, set their rules and choose their position.”

Gerard noticed what looked like a massage table. “Are there options? I thought it could only be doggy style…”

“We can adjust it to missionary, as an example.”

“Oh”, he was surprised again. “No, uh… Doggy’s fine.”

“Very well, Mr. Way. This room is completely private and at your disposal. Behind that door there’s a bathroom with complementary products, you may use anything as you like. Once you’re ready, you take your place here”, she pointed at the table. “And you let us know by pressing this button. The red one is a panic button, in case anything happens.”

“You won’t be watching?”

“No”, the woman did everything in her power to keep her cool despite the insinuation. “Our clients value their privacy, there are no cameras in this place.”

“I see” he smiled, relieved. Even if the woman got another idea, Gerard didn’t want to be seen in that situation.

“Please write down here your rules so we can give them to the other customer.”

Gerard took the tablet she handed him and then looked at her. “I don’t really know. What rules do people usually have?”

“Well… No spanking or pain. Sometimes not touching certain areas. It depends on the client’s preferences.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t care”, he returned the tablet. “Thanks.”

“Are you sure?”

Gerard nodded.

“Panic button”, the woman reminded him, pointing at it, in which Gerard thought was something outside the script she had and made him smile before nodding again. 

“Got it.”

“Enjoy your experience, Mr. Way.”

Gerard was convinced that even if he didn’t he would at least have excellent material for a horror comic book because every single thing in that establishment looked like it could turn out to be a slaughterhouse. He would have felt safer in a place that wasn’t trying to cover up the indecency and decadence of the service they were selling, without a receptionist calling him “Mr. Way” instead of “Thirsty slut”, much more suited to how he felt that day. He should’ve written that in the appointment, he had no idea why he had used his real name for it.

He entered the bathroom, impossibly clean and immaculate, as if it had never been used. The toilet had a sterile plastic cover, just as the towels, soaps, shampoos and lotions. There was also a shelf filled with a ridiculous selection of lube. Would it work as in hotels? Could he take anything he wanted? He assumed an affirmative answer and started filling up his pockets with everything that seemed interesting. The only thing missing for it to be his new favorite place was a coffee machine.

Huh. They also had razors. He grabbed a pink one and brought it close to his eyes. “You little bitch”, he said out loud, no clarity if it was for the object or himself.

He took off his pants and underwear, throwing them on the floor that was cleaner than his basement’s. Actually, it was cleaner than his clothes. Anyway. 

His gaze wandered until he found shaving cream and he told himself he wouldn’t allow the universe to continue to mock him. If that was his destiny, he would carry it with honor. Besides, it shouldn’t be so bad, he already shaved his face, how hard could i--“FUCK”, he yelled after the first section he tried to do, being able to feel the mistake in his skin.

He rushed to the shower and got the cream off with water so he could see how badly he had fucked up. It was only in his lower abdomen, he wasn’t as dumb as to start by shaving his balls, but he had cut himself with the razor. There was a thin red line after a square trace of white skin standing out amongst the rest of the long and black pubic hair. Shit, he looked like a runaway sheep...

He bit his lip, about to freak out. What the fuck could he do? Just keep going? And when should he stop? He couldn’t go over the wound, what if he made it worse?

He would have to leave it be. It was doggy style after all, the other person wouldn’t see it. The thought managed to calm him down and he sighed in relief. He still was dressed from the waist up and he chose to keep it like that. It gave him comfort, somehow, as if he was still in his basement where nothing could go wrong.

After washing only the needed parts of his body, he got out of the shower and had the pleasure of ripping the plastic cover in one of those fancy towels, drying himself and checking for blood in his wound. Truth be told, it wasn’t that bad, but Gerard was a bit of a coward sometimes.

And then it was time to face the next thing: lube. Stretching. Though he had never been in an even remotely close situation, he assumed the other person was going to go straight to satisfy his own desire and there wouldn’t be any patience to gently open him. And seriously, he was fine with it, he wasn’t looking for anyone’s gentleness, only their dicks. It was better to be honest with himself.

He picked up a jar of lube exclusively because the packaging had skulls on it and he stepped out of the bathroom so he could lean on the table more comfortably. There were 10 minutes left according to the clock in the wall, so he better got started. He bent over and led his lubed fingers straight to his ass, getting one inside as he tried to relax. He closed his eyes and pictured what was going to happen, soon it wouldn’t be just a fantasy anymore and he would have the real thing. He didn’t care for it to be big or thick, he only needed it to be REAL. He seriously believed there was no way he could be disappointed with that experience, even if he got a premature ejaculator, because he was worried himself about cumming as soon as he got dicked.

With all of the solitaire practice he had, it didn’t take long for him to be able to get two more fingers inside and stop pretending to be all innocent. It kind of wasn’t his first rodeo, if by rodeo you mean inserting stuff into his rectum. His dildos were getting more daring as he got bored, who was he even trying to kid by opening up slowly. His dick started reacting and he was tempted to jerk off, just a little bit. “Gerard, NO”, he told himself. Sometimes he needed to hear it.

When he felt more than ready, he adjusted the table and placed his elbows on it, resting his ass in that opening shared with the next room. He pushed the button to let them know he was in place and just a minute later there was movement behind him. “Mr. Way, we’re going to move you.”

“Okay?”

He felt hands in latex gloves grabbing his hips and pulling him. Over his shoulder, he saw a small door getting closed and then the lower half of his body was secure and locked in the other room. His face was already hot, up to his ears, and it hadn’t even started.

“Is everything alright?”, he heard and noticed it came from a speaker. “Push the blue button to talk.”

He did so. “All good.”

“Your match will be arriving soon.”

Gerard crossed his arms on the table and rested his face in them, biting his nails. He felt completely exposed. Or just _half_ exposed? Well, jokes aside, he knew what he was getting into and it still surprised him. All of his ass was there, in another room, and a stranger was arriving soon to use him. He couldn’t hear anything from the other side, but assumed the guy would have a microphone button just as he did in case they needed to tell something to the other. Hopefully he wouldn’t need it, because if he had a voice that turned him off the whole experience was going to be shitty.

Suddenly a hand was on his hip. His body jumped involuntarily; it was fuckin’ cold! The hand immediately left. Shit, he hoped he hadn’t ruined it just like that… He side-eyed the button and pondered whether to press it and tell him it was okay to touch him.

However, the hand soon was back, this time a bit warmer. Had he rubbed them together so it would be more pleasant? Even the idea made his stomach feel funny, in a good way. The fingers felt a bit rough, also in a good way, and they traveled straight to one of his cheeks and gave him a squeeze that made him moan in surprise. Then both hands were on his ass, touching him as if they were inspecting him, spreading, exposing everything. That person was probably staring at his asshole; actually, he was sure of it. His balls must have been visible too, but not his badly cut pubic hair, which was the only thing that mattered.

One of the hands let go of the grip and the next thing he felt was a finger caressing his hole, circling it, touching only on the surface without pushing. He couldn’t tell if it was the lube already in him or if that finger was covered in more, but it felt slippery and quite nice. There was no resistance when it tried to enter him and he just let out a pant, smiling to himself. It felt good...

He bit his lip in delight, shutting his eyes, imagining the other person as they added more fingers, pretty… delicately? Slowly? What was going on?

Oh. He was being prepped by him. What a nice guy.

Getting used to this new piece of information, he tried to keep his cool, leaning more comfortably on the table. It was still a fun activity, but he hoped the guy would soon realize that he was ready for action, because he was the tiniest bit horny and kind of wanted to lowkey jerk off and...

OH.

HE COULDN’T!

“Moron…”, he said to himself along with a face palm. He rubbed his hair, frustrated. How had he overlooked the fact that his orgasm depended on another person? What happened if he didn’t touch him? Was that one of the rules he was supposed to set and Claire failed to tell him? CLAIRE, WHY THIS BETRAYAL?

Was that a reason to press the panic button?

“Oh…”, Gerard exclaimed, for the fourth or fifth time, when that kind stranger found his prostate and started touching it softly. Well, maybe the guy knew that he was doing, Gerard could contain the panic for a while.

It actually felt fuckin’ good… He rested his head again on his arms and closed his eyes, being as loud as he wanted with his moans and a big smile on his face when he decided to acknowledge his own genius for coming up with this idea. Being fingered was just incredible.

Sadly, the fingers left him empty in one motion and he found himself getting up and looking over his shoulder, where he could only face the wall. “HEY! RUDE!”

There obviously was no answer. What was the guy doing?

He understood the man might have been doing some preparation on his own, because the next thing he felt was something warm between his cheeks and his eyes opened wide. He bit his lower lip in expectation. That was the moment he was waiting for! The main course!

Out of only wishful thinking, he was convinced he could feel the condom and it wasn’t his imagination because he had read it was mandatory to use in the terms and conditions. Even though it was so reasonable to wear protection, part of him wanted to feel all of it, semen included. Maybe there was some sort of fidelity program, if he used the service 10 times he would get some bareback for free.

“Mh…”, he heard himself moan happily as he felt how his body opened to welcome the invasion. Or visit? Well, it was completely consensual, so he preferred to think of it as a guest coming in to say hi.

He tried to breathe normally, even though it was difficult. The man was going slowly, letting him enjoy every inch and Gerard had no way to tell when it would be all in. He knew he wanted to feel it deeper and barely realized he was pushing his hips towards the guy, as an only cue that it was okay to go on. The other person seemed to agree and Gerard was sure he saw stars when the tip of that cock hit deep inside of him and he also felt the skin of the guy on his buttocks. Great size, 10/10.

Once again the guy gave him a moment and this time it was actually appreciated, because Gerard needed it to get used to the new sensation. He didn’t pay attention when a hand was placed in his hip, neither when it started making his way towards the front of his body; the truth is he only tensed up when the fingers brushed off his razor accident. Did he hear a laugh or was it his imagination?

He clenched his fists. Surely he imagined it, there was no way of hearing anything next door and he was worrying too much about something that didn’t matter, as the stranger’s hand seemed to point out when it continued exploring between his thighs until it reached his crotch and held his dick. Again he got the feeling that this was an experienced guy, because he immediately touched the tip with his thumb, massaging the slit and spreading all of the precum he didn’t even know he was leaking, making him groan loudly again. Now he was thankful for the soundproof walls. He felt like a virgin kid. And he was a virgin adult, mind you.

The fingers wrapped around his erection and pressed just the right amount to get him completely hard and make him relax his body, if there was anything else to relax. He spread his legs wider, doing his best to submit himself, because that guy could just do whatever the fuck he wanted as long as he kept making him moan like that.

He kind of felt the stranger read his mind and when he started pulling out and then made him whimper against the table when he went back in; one quick, hard and strong motion. That was just what he wanted, what he imagined all week. The guy did it again, and repeated it, pressing his fingers on his hips, preventing him from moving, even though he wasn’t going to. The hand on his dick moved at the same rhythm, which should simply be illegal. How the fuck was he supposed to last more than a few minutes

He held onto the edge of the table, his knuckles going white, and squeezed his eyes shut leaving his mouth open because there was no way he could shut that. He focused on the sensation. There was no way his cock could be any harder, he had never felt like that before, and each pounding got a louder whimper from him, completely uncommanded. He always thought people were faking it when they screamed in pleasure, but along came that stranger to prove him wrong with his wonderful, magical cock, doing things to his body he never knew were possible.

He didn’t know what to do with his hips, sometimes they pushed backwards trying to get that cock to stay inside of him and then they tried to fuck deeper into the fist that was holding him. The mix was amazing, couldn’t be compared with anything he could do by himself, and when the rhythm increased he realized he was getting too close to the climax. His legs trembled; if he hadn’t been supported by the table he was sure his legs would’ve given out by then. He was so hot he could feel sweat drops running through his face and back, but he didn’t think of taking off his clothes. He wasn’t able to think of anything, his body only contorted in pleasure.

The stranger was plunging into him fast and hard, bumping into his thighs, and jerking him off just as much. “Fuck, fuck, YES, DON’T STOP”, he found himself begging to the air, while his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he reached the long awaited orgasm. He had no idea how long it lasted, but it felt like a lifetime. He humped the stranger’s hand, cumming in it with a stupid and oh-so-satisfied smile on his face.

He tried to catch his breath and there was a second of calm when the hand around his dick let go. However, the next thing that happened was that both of the stranger’s hands grabbed his hips pretty hard, keeping him in place and proceeding to pound him harder than before. Gerard bit his lip, feeling weird. It felt like the orgasm continued.

His body bumped into the table to the rhythm the other person was fuckin’ him and he stopped trying to hold himself up, simply allowing the man to use him as he wanted. The guy fuckin’ deserved it, he hoped he had the best orgasm of his life and did his best to help him. The movement got suddenly faster and he felt some deep penetration, until the last one in which the man stayed close to him for a moment longer. Gerard could feel the pulsations inside of him and even how he started going soft.

And just like that, it was over. The guy wasn’t inside of him anymore and Gerard collapsed on the table, a big silly grin on his face. He had just been fucked stupid, he finally understood the expression.

But a slap on his ass brought him back to life. 

He blushed. Was that his way of saying goodbye, by spanking him? He couldn’t hold back a chuckle. 

What an asshole.

He had no idea on how much time passed until Claire asked if it was okay to come in. And he wouldn’t be able to describe for anyone the process to get him out of where he was because he didn’t pay attention, but they gave him a moment to clean himself up and get dressed, and just a few minutes later he was outside of the establishment holding a card in which they had stamped one circle out of ten. So nine more and he would get a free appointment. They did have a fidelization program.

Gerard looked up to the sky while he walked over to the street, amazed by the bright colors and how beautiful everything was. Being alive was amazing, he felt thankful for it.

The only thing left to make that moment truly perfect was a cigarette and he got one out of his pocket, lighting it without a care in the world. He took a deep drag and smiled again. He felt high. It was amazing.

“Hey, you got a light?”, he heard behind him. He immediately approached whoever it was and got into his personal space, grabbing the hand holding the smoke to light it with his, even though he was still holding the lighter on the other hand and it would have been much easier to give it to him, and less invasive. He couldn’t think, he was stupid now.

When the guy leaned in as well to inhale from his side so the fire took, Gerard caught a glimpse of the most beautiful face he had ever seen. For a split second, he wondered if that could have been his partner on the other side of the wall… But no, it was impossible. Somebody like him wouldn’t have a need for a place like that. Not with that smile. God, that smile was perfect. It made him warm in all the right places, especially his stomach. He had never felt like that before, not even with the recent sex.

“Cool tattoos”, he spilled out, pointing to the ones on his neck, desperate for something to say. The guy looked at him straight in the eyes. His were hazel and perfectly round.

“Thanks, man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the amazing [Bulletproof_Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulletproof_Heart/) there's a [podfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500504) for this chapter!


	2. Brain Stew

“And your face is amazing.”

As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to take them back. His high went away and left him alone with his poor choices, overly conscious about himself and how awkward he must look trying to flirt with someone so painfully out of his league. He surely seemed like a creep; for the first time in months he wished he had done something for his appearance, at least to not look homeless. How long had they been silent? Was he staring at him too intensely? Shit, he needed to stop making eye contact, stop making things awkward. Stop it, Gerard.

“Just giving out free compliments, huh?”, the guy laughed.

“Should I charge for them?”, he replied again without thinking. That dude’s laughter was beautiful, contagious, it made him stare at him harder trying to get another one. He would do a fuckin’ stand-up routine for him, if only he had more jokes… Would a knock-knock one do? Knock, knock. Who’s there? Me, I want your phone number.

Neither of them continued the conversation as a third presence stepped into the scene. Gerard turned around immediately to have a look, since the person was coming out from the same place he did and could be his mysterious lover. Was that a good nickname for the random stranger skillful at fucking? Probably not, but it was too late now.

He looked at the man from head to toe, analyzing. He was tall, too tall to have been able to… um… do what he did in a comfortable way, considering that Gerard’s feet were touching the ground while his upper body rested on the table. They would’ve had to lift him up, or have the guy stand with his legs apart and just the thought made him have a silly smile on his face. It was funny.

The guy looked back at him and winked. Gerard blushed, because he was an idiot who stared at people without thinking.

He brought the cigarette back to his lips, thankful for having something to do and dared to take another look at the beautiful stranger who was still standing next to him, as if they had met to smoke together. He was a bit short, at least shorter than him, and now the image in his head was of him standing on a box or something to reach his hips. But that was a dumb thought for an entirely different reason; a guy like him didn’t need to use that kind of service. The ones who used it were basement rats like Gerard.

Surely he ended up making the guy uncomfortable with his inquisitive stare, because he half smiled at him and mumbled “Thanks for the light”, before crossing the street even though cars were passing by. Did he rather die than talk to him? Shit.

Well, no harm done. It was best to focus on the fact that he saw someone beautiful, who would definitely get sketched later and maybe fantasized about, and it didn’t matter if he left a bad first impression because he wouldn’t ever see him again. Or his beautiful tattoos, or his round eyes, or his smile, or his dimples… What did he use to think about before knowing that person existed? OH, right, HE WASN’T A VIRGIN ANYMORE. The realization brought a giant smile to his face. Okay, maybe it was debatable. Was he at least half a virgin? Or did virginity only mean sharing a sexual experience? Actually, the concept of virginity was just a misogynistic construct to lessen the value of women who initiated their sexual activities, so he chose to just think of himself as a non-virgin. An EXPERIENCED person. HA. Wow.

To fully reflect on said experience —now that he had it— he decided to walk home. First of all, he wasn’t sore, which meant his body was prepared for those activities. Also that his lover had been careful and considerate, couldn’t let out that fact… It was so good, he could barely control his hormones remembering it. If he focused, he was still able to make out his hands and other body parts. He felt lucky about getting that random guy. He even gave him a slap! Shit, he was blushing right there on the street. It was nice to think of it as a greeting, or a ‘thank you, I had a great time’, but it was nicer to just know how it felt to have a hand slap you in the ass. Hopefully there would be more spanking in his future.

Honestly, he felt great thinking of himself as part of the group of people who knew what sex was like. He stared at strangers walking by feeling a sense of complicity, as if he was finally part of a club he never had been invited to. Yes, he forced his way in, but it didn’t matter, he was already there and no one could make him leave. Just remembering that dick inside of him, hard and pulsating, delicious, it was--

“Mikey!”, he answered his phone, nervous, using his best ‘hey little brother I swear I wasn’t thinking of dicks right before answering this phone call’ voice. It was a voice he used more often than he’d like to admit. “What’s up? How’s everything? How’s life treating you?”

“You’re being weird”, the voice on the other side questioned immediately. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just went for a walk.”

“Outside? Are you outside right now?”

“Yeah, do you--”

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“Um… yeah. Mikey, I do go out from time to time…”

“You NEVER go out.”

“I LOVE going out.”

“Okay, whatever. Hey, are you still single?”

Gerard’s brain went to make a quick analysis of _‘non-virgin_ _≠ taken’_ along with a reminder that even if Mikey was all mystic and shit sometimes there was simply no way of him knowing what had just happened… right?

“Very single”, he said. “The singlest I’ve been. Couldn’t be singler if I tried.”

“Wanna go out with one of my classmates?”

“Which one?”

“Brad.”

“Which one was that?”

“Do you remember any of my classmates?”

“No.”

“Then it doesn’t matter. You wanna try going out with him? He’s been pestering me forever and I said I was going to ask. I don’t think you’ll have much in common, but he’s nice and obsessed with you.”

A voice inside his head asked _“why?”_ , but he didn’t need to hear the answer again and have Mikey nag him for being self deprecating. _“You’re fun, interesting, kind and when you actually wash your hair, you look good.”_ He tried his best to believe it, specially since he got a job with a steady income allowing him to feel validated —fuckin’ capitalism— and it was still difficult to picture someone begging Mikey for a chance to go out with him. What was the point? To be labeled as creepy again?

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just said I’d ask”, his brother chimed in before he had to say anything.

“I don’t know. Guess you can give him my number.”

“Oh. Good”, the long pause made him realize Mikey didn’t expect that answer. “Are you okay?”

“Excellent.”

“Well, that’s it then. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

***

For all that big deal people made about losing their virginities, Gerard thought life stayed pretty much the same. Yes, maybe taking care of his primal needs was what helped him shift the energy he spent masturbating into other projects and he enjoyed getting into the ‘zone’ while drawing stuff for himself. It had been quite a while, since working full-time made him feel he had to be productive all of the time and keep things work-related. In that sense, having sex gave him an unexpected clarity. Or maybe just some more free time now that he didn’t have to waste it looking for the perfect video to jerk off.

Leaving that aside, he didn’t feel different. Remembering what happened was a fun anecdote, just thinking about that time he was daring enough to lend his ass to a stranger. Kinky. Made him feel spicy. Definitely a once in a lifetime thing and that’s it, he didn’t feel the need to go back.

Until exactly a week had passed and the anecdote began to feel like a desire. The memory kept getting more and more detailed as he recalled it again, going step by step through what those hands did to him and his body started remembering every sensation as if it was happening in the present. Those fingers caressing him, exploring between his legs, opening him up, wrapping his dick with just enough pressure...

“Gerard? You still there?”

“Guess his camera froze.”

Gerard blinked slowly, realizing he had been spacing out during a video call meeting with his colleagues and boss. “Oh, sorry, yeah, it kinda froze… Weird. What were you saying?”

“About the new character, we were thinking…”

Well, it seemed like he needed to get his fix. He wasn’t above sex after wall, why did he even think he was going to be okay with not doing it again? 

Gerard kept his phone out of camera while nodding to what people were saying and doing agreeing noises to hide the fact that he was making an appointment with his new favorite place. It was necessary.

***

The place felt spookier the second time he visited. Taking in more information than before, like the posters in the reception area picturing beaches and small animals, just brought up more questions. Were they trying to make it look as a relaxation center? Was it a money laundry operation? Who ran the establishment? His mind quickly went to the horror stories he could write and also the erotic ones. Shit, yeah, he needed a dick up his ass yesterday. He wanted to stop thinking with his cock and start using his actual brain again.

“Mr. Way, what a delight to have you here again.”

The sudden greeting startled him. It was Claire. He couldn’t decide if seeing a familiar face made things better or worse. Would she judge him for coming back? Was she looking in the booking application for how many days had passed and realizing he was basically a bitch in heat? Oof.

“Yeah, um… Just looking forward to that free session.”

Claire’s smile tightened, but never wavered. “Alright. Follow me?”

He couldn’t tell if the woman had appreciated his wonderful sense of humor, but he followed her in silence, paying attention to his surroundings this time. There were many doors in that corridor and he wondered if behind them there were more couples sharing a good time through walls. As sneaky as possible, he began leaning in and trying to hear something.

“This is your room.”

Gerard quickly straightened himself and made a totally normal face. “Thank you very much”, he said, keeping his cool, staring into the room with the attitude of someone who just received a bottle of wine for the table and was in charge of approving it. “Looks good.”

The woman handed him a tablet just as last time and Gerard refused it again. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. And doggy is fine.”

“Wonderful”, she said, and Gerard tried really hard to believe her. “Let us know when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Claire.”

He thought he saw a sincere smile from her. Maybe all of the judgement was only inside his head. She was the one working there in the first place, and she must have seen worse than him, right?

Things went by just like last time. Gerard took a shower —well, half of it— and stole things he had liked before and others he hadn’t tried yet. His eyes focused on yet another pink razor, but he firmly said: “Not today, Satan.”

He laid face-down on the stretcher with the confidence of someone who had done that exactly once before: some confidence, but not a lot. A faint sense of hope went through his mind thinking that he could encounter the same guy as before, until he realized it was impossible. Besides, the whole point of being there was not knowing who the other person was, so even in the very unlikely possibility of them meeting again, he would have no way of recognizing him. Should he have appointed it at the same time he did before? Maybe the guy was there every Friday at 18:00… Fuck, he shouldn’t be getting caught up in a stranger. It was time to meet a new dick. That was it, just a transaction, no feelings involved.

He let the staff know he was ready. And by ready he meant READY. He had used a lubricant that warmed up to the touch and managed somehow to hold himself back from jerking off to not mess with the build up. He wanted to have an orgasm just as mind-blowing as the previous one. He had the biggest and dumbest smile on his face while waiting for movement on the other side of the wall. 

And he didn’t have to wait much. In fact, shortly after feeling a hand on his hip there was another thing entering his body. Honestly? It could’ve been slower, but it was alright, he respected that person’s style. At least it was pretty hard and when the movement started, it reached exactly where it should, so he felt good. He started moaning without a care, happiness filling him as well at the thought of not being in his basement covering his mouth with a pillow while using a dildo so the neighbors wouldn’t complain —again. He was a loud and expressive guy, he couldn’t help it.

His dick was getting harder and he was enjoying it, even if the rhythm was a bit difficult to follow at first. He licked his lips, holding on to the edge of the table. The guy picked up and started doing it faster, getting more friction between them, and Gerard wasn’t sure that was what he wanted right in that moment, but tried his best to stay there and just feel it.

Well, the whole three minutes that it lasted. Seriously, there was a clock in the wall in front of him, those were exactly _three fuckin’ minutes_. He couldn’t believe it when he felt the guy go soft and leave his body, without touching him at all. Confused, he blinked and waited, biting the inside of his lips. Was that all? For real?

Not even a little slap?

There was a knock on his door and Claire entered the room after getting his permission. He was safe to assume that his face communicated everything he was thinking, because she rushed to say: “No refunds. It’s in the terms and conditions.”

“Good to know.”

***

The cigarette he smoked outside the establishment was the angriest one he had in months. Serious angry smoking. The nicotine was doing absolutely nothing to calm him down. That _had_ to be the definition of blue balls, right? He had never felt so unsatisfied in his life. Even his sad masturbation sessions in his basement were better than being left undone by a stranger, ending up so upset that his erection was gone before he could try to do something by himself. And he still had to _pay_ for it? Okay, now he finally got why bottoms paid less. What a fuckin’ shit show.

In the middle of his tantrum he saw a coffee shop across the street and let his feet take him there. If he couldn’t have an orgasm, then he would get a fuckin’ coffee, double, it didn’t matter if he couldn’t fall asleep until 3am. He deserved it. To be fair, it was the next best thing, even though it wasn’t a Starbucks.

It was one of those smaller chains and he begged the Lord for it to have good coffee, because he was physically unable to handle another disappointment. He approached the lady behind the register, who had nothing but smiles for him, because she wasn’t Claire reminding him of signing off to accept whatever came his way without complaining. CLAIRE, YOU FUCKIN’ TRAITOR, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE AN ALLY.

“We will call you when it’s ready.”

“Thanks”, he replied, because even if he was livid, he still had manners.

He looked for a table to sit and wait. He didn’t even have his sketchbook to draw, so the only thing he could do with his fingers to wave the anxiety away was sliding the cigarette he would smoke on his way back home between his fingers, tapping it on the surface, and playing with the lighter in his other hand.

No idea why he looked up from the table, but he found himself staring at a pair of tattooed arms as soon as he did. The person preparing his coffee was flexing his muscles while handling the steam valve and Gerard felt like he was watching the first few minutes of a Pornhub video. He appreciated in excessive detail how the tattoos covered the guy’s hands as well and his eyes traveled up until he distinguished the scorpion on his neck that had caught his attention a week ago.

It was _him._

“Gerard, double latte!”, he suddenly heard and got up before coming up with a plan on what the hell he would say to the pretty guy from last time. Hey, pretty guy, knock-knock, it’s me; I fucked up this joke.

“Thanks”, he muttered as he reached for the cup. Even though he tried to avoid looking him in the eyes, the guy did it and Gerard mirrored him as a reflex. The smile he found on his lips made it worth it to feel awkward blushing in front of him. He got stupidly nervous really fast and turned around without another word, missing the chance to know if he remembered him or not.

But the man smiled at him because of something, right? He thought he saw a bit of complicity and he might have just lost an excellent opportunity to talk to him. It could be that flawless logic or his irrepressible desire to just see his face again which made him go back to the counter, laying down his coffee and pretending to search for a cardboard sleeve.

A tattooed hand offered him one. Gerard read ‘Hallo’ on his knuckles. “We have seen each other before”, he heard himself saying. He looked for his gaze again. The smile on the guy’s face was something he couldn’t decipher. 

“I don’t know, I see a lot of people.”

Shit. No. Abort. No, no, no. That wasn’t the day to make an ass of himself, you know, no more than he had already done. He was willing to sit through one class in Clown Academy, not graduate from it.

“Right”, he made half a smile, pretending he hadn’t deeply hurt him with his dismissiveness and lifted his coffee cup, willing to get out of there and break up forever with that misery called flirting.

“You gave me a light”, the guy said. Gerard had no fuckin’ clue what was going on. Should he put on the clown make-up or not? He just slowed his steps and looked over his shoulder. “You goin’ out for a smoke?”

“Yeah”, he replied, raising the cigarette he still had between his fingers. He then swallowed really hard watching the dude taking off his apron. Was he actually watching porn? Were they going to fuck in the restroom? Bow chicka wow-wow?

“Hey, I’m taking my break now”, the man announced to the woman on the register and got out from behind the counter. “Can I borrow a light again? Keep losing mine.”

“Sure”, he said, this time actually handing him the lighter instead of going all dumbass failed casanova on him, invading his personal space. They got out of the shop with Gerard walking a few steps behind him and when the pretty guy gave him back his lighter, he quickly lit his cigarette so he wouldn’t look so nervous. He was still holding the coffee in his other hand.

“You like the coffee?”, the guy asked.

“Haven’t tried it yet.”

Awkward AF. He felt all of his movements clumsy and overly-complicated: stashing his lighter again in his pocket so he could have a free hand to hold the cigarette and then bringing the cup to his lips, obviously burning himself and then trying to keep a straight face while also stopping himself from freaking out because he forgot to actually taste the damn thing. Well, did it matter if it was good or not? Even if the guy had spat on it Gerard would say it was the best thing he had tasted, ever. “Really good.”

“Didn’t burn your tongue?”

“Na”, Gerard replied, tears in his eyes. The dude just burst out laughing, not even trying to be subtle or hold it in at all. Shit, his laughter… He seriously pondered throwing the scalding coffee all over his own face so that he could keep on chuckling. He didn’t realize he was smiling too. “Okay, a little.”

“I can tell.”

Maybe it was time to make a graceful exit, it wasn’t like he invited him to have a smoke together, he just saw a person with a lighter and an opportunity to save some time not having to look for another one, but Gerard felt hypnotized by him. He hadn’t entertained the idea —not that much anyway— of meeting him again, so it kind of felt like it had meaning. Namely, if he was the one writing it, this scene would have had sakura petals all around and lots of sparkles, instead of him just standing like an idiot about to drool because he couldn’t help himself. How the fuck did someone so cute exist? 

When the guy placed a piece of hair behind his ear, Gerard was able to read the word ‘ween’ on his other hand. “Halloween?”

“Yup”, he replied, holding the cigarette in his mouth and putting his fists together so he could see the full word tattooed on his knuckles. 

“That’s SO cool, man.”

“Usually people ask me why.”

“You need a reason to like Halloween?”

“Well, no, but I was born on it, so I may be biased.”

“What?! Fuck, that’s COOL! You’re like Jack Skellington.”

“Don’t expect me to start singing anything though.”

Gerard got silent for a minute. “You’re a Scorpio… Is that why you have a scorpion on your neck?”

“Sorta. You into tattoos?”, Gerard nodded. “Got any?”

“Hell no. I hate needles”, he shivered at the thought. “All I’ve got is pestering people who have them.”

“So you’re just interested in my ink”, the guy said, another one of those cryptic smiles. Was he flirting? Was he offended? Fuck, so hard to tell. 

“Yeah, but I like your face too”, he dumbly added. Why? No idea. Maybe he hadn’t done enough damage to his self esteem that day. “It’s like so symmetrical, and cute as hell”, he kept going, WHY THE FUCK COULDN’T HE JUST SHUT UP. “And when you smile it gets all like… Like you should be the main character in a comic book or something, you know that aura? Like you know something the audience doesn’t and that’s--”

Due to pure luck or Mikey’s incredible sixth sense, his phone vibrated in his pocket and put him out of his misery. “Sorry, gotta take this”, he said, even though he didn’t think the guy cared why that creepy conversation was brought to a sudden end. “Mikey, you wanna hang out? Nope, I’m not doing anything.”

He raised his eyebrows as a goodbye for the guy, whose name he hadn’t even gotten yet, and turned his back on him, feeling how sweaty his hands were as he walked away. “Have I told you that I love you? Because I fuckin’ adore you, brother.”

“I have no idea what I did, but thanks. I deserve it.”

He hadn’t made up his mind on telling Mikey about the pretty guy. On one hand, he always told Mikey everything —well, almost everything— and on the other one, we would never stop laughing at him and how much he had messed up something that hadn’t even started. To be fair, the thing had no fuckin’ chance of being. Jack Skellington was way out of his league. They weren’t even playing the same sport.

Goodbye forever, Pumpkin King.

***

Not going to lie, the week had its ups and downs. The ups were that Gerard did everything within his reach to keep himself away from that god-forsaken place: drawing and writing until he fell exhausted on his bed, getting distracted by chatting with his family and even taking care of his own relief when needed. Everything in theory should help him stay away from fantasizing with an experience he never wanted to repeat.

The down happened on Friday when he woke up touching himself and furrowed his eyebrows, growling out loud: “WHYYYY?”

And seriously, why Fridays? Why so horny? What the hell had awakened in himself that made him consider offering his ass for grabs yet again? Did his body know it was Friday?

“Fuckin’ shit, fuckin’ cock”, he complained, reaching for his phone with his free hand to check if there was any appointment available that day to meet with his new best friend, Claire. He didn’t even want to imagine the face she would make when he came back, nor which _he_ would make to cover up being needy as fuck and having no dignity at all. No dignity, for real, not even a little as a treat. And he really needed to decide if all that humiliation was worth three minutes of being fucked.

Well, trying to put things into perspective —as seriously as he could while his hand was still holding his morning wood inside his Batman Pjs— he had only had two experiences. The first one was the best of his life and the second one was… okay, awful. As he saw it, there was a 50-50 chance of either one repeating. He could take those odds.

A confirmation email for 17:00 that same day showed up on his screen. He took a deep breath and made the conscious decision of saving his hornyness for later. If he showed up desperate enough he could make even those three minutes count, maybe.

Shit, three minutes… Those kinds of men were the reason porn sites had so many banners aimed at premature ejaculators. Whatever, it was time to stop thinking about porn, so he got up and looked for something to occupy himself with until it was time to go out. He passed the pages of his sketchbook, blushing stupidly when he got to the strokes he made trying to remember the cute guy’s tattoos. 

What if he just casually went to get a cup of coffee?

No, no way. He couldn’t forget how much he had embarrassed himself already.

***

“Mr. Way.”

“Claire.”

“This way.”

“Thanks.”

Gerard blew his bangs away from his face, trying then to place the long black hair behind his ears, thankful for that quick greeting. The humiliation he came to buy was of another kind, thank you very much. Besides, he had even washed his hair for the occasion and his hoodie was almost clean, so he really didn’t need anybody’s judgement. He was trying his best.

“The usual”, he told Claire before being left alone, rejoicing in the thought of being a regular at a bar instead of… What was that place? A motel? Brothel? Well, no one was paying him for his services, so… Could it be classified as a bank? Certainly people were making a deposit. Oh shit, why couldn’t he have that level of cleverness in front of Coffee Shop’s Pretty Guy?

He undressed from the waist down and realized he was already feeling enthusiastic, probably because he had just thought of Pretty Guy. Yes, he certainly would like to have that ‘Ween’ hand wrapped around his dick. Or would it have to be the ‘Hallo’ one? Was he right or left handed?

Whatever, he had stuff to do, so he grabbed a jar of lube from the shelf while he thought of those tattooed fingers caressing his insides. Frankly, he felt he could come right in that instant, but he kept it in as he could. He didn’t want to waste his money again. And what was that cherry smell? He lifted his fingers and brought them to his nose, staring at the label on the jar. Why the hell would they bother to make it cherry-scented? He licked one of his fingers. Why the hell would they bother to make it cherry-flavoured? 

Absolutely no answers later, Gerard ended up laying on the stretcher a third time, his heart beating fast on his chest anticipating what could happen. Would it be someone skillful? Would it be another selfish motherfucker? There was nothing else to do but wait and see. He felt anxious, almost regretting not having his phone on his hands. Millennials and their technology, right? No one stopped to smell the roses anymore and… Oh. A pair of hands were on his ass. Cool.

At least he was being touched and that was already an improvement from the previous guy. Actually, it felt pretty nice, as if it was a bit more than just a transaction. He wasn’t by any chance an expert in foreplay —nor in anything sex-related— but that’s how he pictured it would be, just fingers going over his skin without getting too explicit yet. They felt rough, a bit calloused… 

He bit his lower lip when one of those hands reached the front, sliding the tip of his fingers over his hip bone and underlining the beginning of his pubic hair. Just then Gerard remembered his razor accident, which still hadn’t fully grown out, even if two weeks had already passed. The guy obviously realized something was off, because his fingers persistently touched that area, kind of comparing the length between the hairs. His face was on fire, because yes, it was embarrassing as fuck, not like having his ass out on the air in another room was embarrassing at all.

Suddenly there were no hands exploring him and Gerard wondered if the razor accident could have been a turn-off for the man. Luckily he didn’t get to freak out for more than a few seconds when his ass was slapped and the feeling made him moan in a mix of surprise and excitement. Could it be… _him?_

He started laughing. That was his way of greeting him, right? Oh, he couldn’t believe his luck. Of course the laughter didn’t last long when he got another slap and realized that it was just as hot as he thought it would be. It hurt a little, just a bit, but the burning sensation was worth it and it sent some sort of vibrations right to his erection, which was something new and highly appreciated. He could feel himself leaking already, but it could also be because of the anticipation of knowing _that_ guy was going to fuck him stupid again. Yes, he was willing to lose more IQ for a good dickin’.

The stranger’s fingers went immediately to his ass, but only touched him on the surface and Gerard wished he wouldn’t be as careful this time. Seriously, he was so excited just knowing it was him that he wanted to jump into action right away. He looked out of the corner of his eye at the microphone button, wondering if he should say something or just trust the guy.

He felt his ass being spread, so curiosity got the best of him, and then his legs trembled and his mind went blank as a sudden and completely new touch was right in his entrance. It wasn’t a finger or a cock, it was… something wet and warm. It was what the toy he bought with silicone tongues promised to do just as well as the real thing and now his brain made a note to get a refund. It was _nothing_ like the real thing. There was nothing like it.

“Aah, fuck!”, he heard himself moaning out loud. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?!”

He was so hard, body tingling with pleasure and knees threatening to give up on him. He grabbed onto the edge of the table, his knuckles going white again. Everything in him quivered focusing on the guy’s tongue circling his hole and he shut his eyes the second it started pushing, trying to get inside of him. His body relaxed at command and he spread his legs as much as he could, trying to give him permission however possible. 

“Yes, yes, don’t stop! Fuck!”

What could he have done in his past life that was so good to deserve this treatment? What the hell could possess a stranger to give him so much pleasure when he was allowed to just think of himself and still pay exactly the same amount? Gerard wished he liked the cherry flavour, as if that could somehow balance things out. Was he ever going to be able to see a cherry and not get a boner? Nope, no way.

The videos he had seen of people cumming only by getting rim jobs had always struck him as edited. Now he wasn’t so sure. Well, he was like one accidental touch away from ejaculating, just a lousy rub of anything and he would explode.

Maybe the guy realized, because he got his face away from his ass and his tongue was quickly replaced by a couple of fingers that slipped embarrassingly easy inside of him and Gerard moaned again, louder than before, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. As soon as his prostate was rubbed, he tried to squeeze his erection to stop himself from cumming but only managed to hit the wall and complain under his breath. Being fingered had to be his second favorite thing ever, after being licked and fucked. Did that make it the third one? Fuck math. Anything that guy did was going to be his favorite and he was practically whimpering while making a poor attempt to hold in his orgasm. All of the heat gathered in his abdomen. “No, no, c’mon…”, he complained, tightening his lips and shutting his eyelids, feeling close to the climax and finally going through something very similar to an orgasm, making his insides tense around those fingers.

The guy touched his front. Gerard imagined he might be worried about the same thing he was, but could feel the tip of his fingers through his length, still hard, which made him tremble again. Hadn’t he cum at all or was it like a dry thing? He couldn’t explain it. The good thing was that it didn’t make the stranger stop and he continued prepping him to go on. “Thank you, you beautiful bastard.”

A few minutes went by with Gerard moaning loudly and pushing his hips towards the guy until his fingers abandoned him and he held his breath. He felt the tip of the dick making its way inside and he lost count of how many divinities he thanked while he kept thrusting into him. It was just as good as he remembered, perhaps even better. The foreplay left him so ready that he didn’t know what the fuck to do with himself, so desperate for more. It was the best sensation in the world.

The guy didn’t make him wait any longer, going in and out of him with a steady rhythm that quickly turned into the pounding he was expecting. Gerard hoped he was just as horny as he was, wanted to imagine him losing control; the fingers digging into his hips made him think it was real. The table began moving with them, hitting the wall with each new thrust as he couldn’t release the edge of it, too focused on just yelling nonsense. “Fuck yeah, yeah, C’MON!”

It was just perfect and then maybe the guy decided he wanted to completely ruin Gerard for other men, because he started spanking him and Gerard was sure he saw fireworks. Fuckin’ fireworks. Shit, he saw all of the sparkles in the universe, didn’t even manage to shut his mouth and catch the spit falling down his chin, so focused on the new sensations. The guy was slamming _hard_ inside of him and even gave him a hand on the front, wrapping his wet cock in a firm grip that made him cum immediately.

A few more pumps from the guy, deeper and making Gerard just straight up scream from pleasure, not knowing if he was having a second or a third orgasm or just a really long one. Was that possible? No idea, but it felt like it.

Shit… Now he needed to know who that was. He wanted to marry him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm going somewhere with this.


	3. Basket Case

“FUCKIN’ MARRY ME, MYSTERY LOVER”, his moans turned into a scream that luckily remained trapped in the safety of soundproof walls. He had absolutely no evidence but also no doubts about his not being the first involuntary marriage proposal that establishment had seen. And the only reply he got from the guy was another deep thrust in his ass. “I’LL MAKE YOU BREAKFAST EVERYDAY”, he went on with his loud rambling, enjoying the delicious slapping against his hips even though he had already climaxed and was sure the guy was getting close to his own ending. “HOW YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS, BABE? BLACK COFFEE?”, he yelled at nothing, a stupid grin on his face, only stopping for more moaning while feeling the last pumps inside of him. “WANT SOME SUGAR? FUCK.”

It was a miracle that he had any voice left after all of that yelling; his throat felt scratchy and dry, and he could only groan, unable to shut his mouth while riding the stranger’s orgasm. He wished with all of his heart for the guy to have a satisfactory climax, he really deserved it, being a fuckin’ saint and all.

He tried to catch his breath, resting his cheek on the table as he felt the guy pulling out of him. All good things must come to an end, unfortunately, and Gerard shut his eyelids together, breathing deeply, realizing just then how his chin was covered in spit, which he cleaned on his hoodie’s sleeve, because he obviously was still wearing it. Shit, he had never been drooling before out of pleasure, but he hadn’t had a rim job before either, so maybe it was a natural reaction to being eaten out?

The stranger made himself present with a last slap on his ass and Gerard just laughed out loud. “I FUCKIN’ LOVE YOU, YOU CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER”, he yelled, his voice more raspy than ever. He felt fuckin’ high again, not a single care in the world.

“Mr. Way, are you ready?”

“Yes, Claire, so ready.”

His smile had to be the creepiest thing ever, but Claire was such a professional she didn’t even flinch, so nothing new or weird happened while they released him from the wall and gave him time to get cleaned up. Gerard walked to the bathroom, already sensing he had too much lube running between his thighs and he inevitably stared himself in the mirror, checking out the red marks on his white ass. He bit his lip and made a big effort to focus on cleaning himself up. Besides, a crazy idea had already formed in his head: if he hurried enough, he might be able to take a peek at his mystery lover. His heart was racing again. He didn’t care how he looked, to be honest, he already knew the most important part of him: his cock. Er, no, he meant his heart and kindness. So selfless. And anyway, it didn’t even matter, because he might chicken out on talking to him, but just being able to put a face on that shapeless blob he had in his mind was enough. It would cease to be just a pair of hands and a dick… and a tongue… it would be a person.

He grabbed some tissue paper and hastily cleaned between his legs, washing his hands afterwards and stuffing his pockets on free samples, as fast as he could. However, he caught his reflection on the mirror again and had to take a moment. He pushed his hair behind his ear and then undid it. Then, he tried to straighten his bangs on his forehead. He hated his face so much. And why had he chosen that hoodie? Why couldn’t he be cooler? He was so pale, not even wearing eyeliner to help his tired gaze and distract from the bags under his eyes.

Shaking his head, he tried to leave those thoughts inside the room and quickly walked out, only stopping in front of the main exit, feeling his heart up in his throat and his hands shaking on the big doors. He wanted to see the guy, but would the guy want to see _him_? What if it was a turn off?

“Everything alright, Mr. Way?”

“Yes, Claire. Thank you.”

In one push he opened the doors, thinking me might throw up from pure nervousness. All he had to do was raise his head and look around, something so simple in theory, but threatening to give him an anxiety attack. 

He could sense someone standing on that same sidewalk, it could be the guy he was looking for, all he needed was a tiny peak and the mystery would be solved.

But he couldn’t. He had chickened out.

His feet took him away as fast they could without running and he just got on the first bus that went by, not even sure if it’d take him home. He plummeted on an empty seat and rubbed his face on his hands. He was such a fuckin’ coward. That’s why he couldn’t have nice things. Shit, he was a fuckin’ clown. A joke. A terrible joke. A joke told by himself.

Knock-knock. Who’s there? Darkness. Hello Darkness, my old friend. Please come in.

***

That happened because he got greedy, right? He couldn’t be happy with only being fucked so good, he had to go and want more, and that’s why he was now lying face down on his bed just staring at the void. 

Why the hell would he try to get any more than a good fuckin’? Having sex three times had filled him with a fake bravery. He was still a damned virgin, he had no experience beyond lending his ass and still hadn’t received feedback on it. Was it even a good ass? He thought he had enough junk in the trunk and was good at preparing himself to be thrusted, but what if he was too loose from masturbating so much? Should he do Kegels? Oh for fuck’s sake, he was so sick of everything, so tired of thinking shit. Besides, he was only getting dicked once a week, that wasn’t much, right? Who the fuck could he talk to about that shit? Did Claire have the answer? Was there some sort of customer service?

“UNIVERSE, JUST GIMME THE SWEET RELEASE OF DEATH ALREADY”, he yelled at the void. He had nothing else to do but talk to himself. Mikey was out partying and his parents were having the time of their lives on their anniversary dinner. Gerard was the only pathetic freak with nothing to do on a Friday night.

Fuck it, enough self pity, it was time to cheer himself up. He moved around the bed and stretched his arm to reach under it for his box of LOTR replicas (Lord of the Rings for the non-virgins/chads reading this fic). He smiled caressing Sting’s blade with his fingers. It really made him feel better and he wondered if Mystery Lover would enjoy LOTR too. You know, if he was going to that place to get sex, maybe he was a loser just like him?

“NO, C’MON, STOP IT”, he told himself once again. He was going down the same path as before, getting his hopes up on something that couldn’t exist. The whole point of using that service was to get sex with no strings attached, and he wasn’t even sure if he was able of attaching his strings on someone else. He had never liked anyone, so why was he obsessed over the guy? As if his body was falling in love, which made no sense.

He could just be in love with sex. With good sex.

Suddenly, his screen went on and it caught him off guard to see a phone call. Seriously, someone was actually _calling_ him? What kind of sociopath just called another human being? It was obviously an unknown number and his first instinct was to ignore it, but his paranoid brain told him it could be a call from the hospital because Mikey had an accident and he just slid his finger on the screen to answer. “Hello?”, he asked, unsure.

“Gerard?”

“Um, yes?”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry! I didn’t think you’d pick up…”

“Okay?”

“I just wanted to check if this was your real number, ‘cause you haven’t replied or read any of my messages and… This is Brad, by the way! Mikey’s classmate.”

“Shit, right. Sorry, I never check my messages.”

“If you’re trying to let me down easy, I…”

“No! I’m just… dumb. Anyway, you wanted to go out?”

“I do, but… do _you_?”

“Sure, I don’t mind. I mean, I’d love to. I mean… I’d enjoy it a normal amount?”, the guy laughed.

“How about tomorrow?”

“Works for me.”

“Any place you’d like to go?”

Gerard went inside his head looking for something to reply. Basically, he knew only two places: his basement and the glory-hole spot. Both were immediately discarded in favor of remembering he actually knew a third place and didn’t bother to think about how sly of him it was to suggest it. “There’s a coffee shop on Emmet St, reaching Passaic Ave.”

“Top of the mug?”

“That one.”

“Okay, then… 5pm?”

Gerard weighed a moment on being awake and decent at said time. Awake, yes; decent probably not. But he was never decent. “Alright, 5pm. See you.”

“Yeah… see you!”

He gave another weird stare to his phone. It was difficult to reconcile with the fact what it allowed phone calls and that he just had one with another human being, with no time to get nervous about it. Brad sounded like a good guy, but there was only one thing he needed to know: would he be able to spank him, if needed? Or was he a three-minute kind of guy who didn’t care if his partner wanted to cum too? YES, HE WAS STILL SALTY ABOUT THAT. Also, would it be awkward to go out with one of Mikey’s classmates? Well, his brother seemed okay with it, but Gerard remembered him saying they didn’t have anything in common.

Could he be a… normie?

A shiver went down his spine at the thought. He hated normies. What did they even talk about? Their big families and whatever the team of any sport did the night before? They were so fuckin’ boring, he thought while stroking his dagger —literally, this isn’t a masturbation joke.

***

Gerard retracted the hand that was going to grab the handle of the cafe’s door and realized he needed a minute before going in. What the fuck was with him and doors lately? They had become his worst enemies, he felt as if they were mocking him and it was unfair when they had all of the information. They knew if Pretty Guy was in there, if Gerard getting all worked up about it was worth it or if he was just making an ass of himself getting nervous for nothing —like what else was new. He had no idea about the guy’s shifts, he had barely been lucky enough to meet him by chance last time and now he was there, all of three hours early for his meeting with Mikey’s classmate. In the middle of his anxiety spiral he thought it would be better for him to get some work done outside than keep on staring at the void in his basement, which turned old and sad really fast. But now he needed a damn minute because being there wasn’t only about stealing glances from his Pumpkin King, but also accepting he might get stared back. And he wasn’t sure he wanted that.

He turned away, his heart racing, and walked a few steps while getting out a cigarette, lighting it immediately. He was embarrassed of going in and getting himself into a situation where his mouth decided it was in charge as if no one else was allowed to make decisions. He had a brain too, alright? It was supposed to keep him from being an idiot, but it seemed to just turn off when he was in front of that guy and Gerard could only cringe in anticipation of the shit he might spit out this time. What if he blurted out about masturbating to him? No, wait, he hadn’t done that yet. It didn’t count to think of him as he was prepping to get fucked, right? It wasn’t such a big deal.

Shit, he really wished to keep that information to himself. What the fuck was wrong with him?

He looked down at his Iron Maiden t-shirt. He was wearing his black leather jacket, pants that weren’t so ripped at the crotch and still had his hair —arguable— clean. It wasn’t the worst moment for presenting himself to Pretty Guy and just exchanging a few words while getting coffee, he had to be able to get through that simple interaction without spontaneously combusting. And he would be totally satisfied with that, he didn’t want anymore than looking at him for a while, just getting a little eye candy. You know, as a treat.

He squashed what was left of his cigarette, having one last calming thought: the guy surely wouldn’t even remember him. He couldn’t be the only one who had told him something out of place, and he couldn’t be the worst one. Namely, he just told him how much he liked his face, like, SUE HIM. Well, no, don’t sue him, he didn’t want a restriction order against him. But hey! That was a silver lining, wasn’t it? It meant things could actually be worse, he could have a restriction order, but didn’t!

Yet.

He smiled to himself and went on to face the goddamn doors once more, pushing them while feeling already smug about it, because they had no choice but to open up to him and… no, Pretty Guy wasn’t there. Time to get his clown make-up.

“We’ll bring your coffee to your table when it’s ready”, he was instructed after ordering and paying, and he accepted it without asking why because nothing mattered if he couldn’t see him.

He chose a table by the window so he could gloomily stare outside through it, as if he was in a coming of age movie. He was way too old for it, but it was always a good feeling. He took out the sketchbook from his bag and flipped the pages, going specially fast on those sketches he had made of Pretty Guy’s face, failing horribly at trying to capture his essence. There were A LOT. Should he be really worried about getting obsessed with him?

“Gerard?”, he heard his name and looked up, being suddenly face to face with the motherfucker himself, who was carefully placing his coffee on the table. Gerard barely managed to close his sketchbook. 

“Jack! Hi!”, he smiled, dumb as ever, his mouth in charge again.

“It’s Frank, you asshole.”

Gerard blinked a few times, completely sure he didn’t know that. If he had known Pretty Guy’s name he wouldn’t have been calling him Pretty Guy in his mind —or Pumpkin King, or Pumpking, or Mr. Gerard Way, or Mr. Fuck Me Pls, among others. But he looked annoyed enough to make him doubt the fact. Well, now that he was actually paying attention to something other than his tattoos and wonderful face, he realized there was a nametag on his apron, so maybe it was his own fault for being stupid and not reading it. He should have.

“I like Jack better”, he said. “Last name: Skellington.”

The guy laughed. “You really suck.”

“Is that how you treat clients?”

“When they suck, yeah.”

Frank turned his back on him to clean the next table. Gerard felt a huge smile on his lips on the edge of becoming a clean and happy chuckle. He had no idea what he did for Frank to insult him in such a friendly matter, but he had loved it and it made the interaction way less awkward than what he had expected it to be. Score?

It was funny to finally be able to put a name on the person he had been thinking so much about, and ‘funny’ in the best possible way. It felt like the missing piece for his puzzle. ‘Frank’ suited him, it felt right, and it made all of the sense in the world, so much he felt he should’ve guessed it. Without realizing, he had been scribbling down the guy’s name on his sketchbook in a horror movie font and he quickly added an ‘enstein’ to save himself from another embarrassment if Frank decided to take a peek.

He reached for the coffee and took a sip, this time being careful about burns. There was still quite some time left for his date to arrive —was it even a date? It felt more like a unilateral reunion, with only one party being interested, even though he tried telling himself he should give the kid a chance, just as he would’ve liked for the guys in the dating app to give him a chance. But it was difficult, considering he didn’t believe in love and he was obviously in love with Frank. Wait, how did those two statements coexist in his head? Well, he wasn’t really in love with Frank, he barely knew the guy, so he was just… Infatuated? Crushing HARD? BEWITCHED? That’d make sense. Frank could be some kind of magical creature that made men fall in love at first sight. And he desperately needed to stop drawing what he was thinking because it was dangerous, so he quickly started drawing Batmans from memory. That should keep him busy while killing time and avoiding making erotic drawings of Frank as a mermaid. Well, maybe later at home.

Working there resulted better than expected. He liked having background noises, it was better than searching YouTube for similar sounds so the basement wouldn’t feel completely empty. Who would have known reality could surpass simulation? Huh. Besides, being there meant he could discreetly watch Frank doing stuff. He saw him laughing with his co-workers, calling clients’ names, working the coffee machines, cleaning tables, and sexily swinging his hips around… Well, he was just walking in a normal way, but Gerard’s mind was like a terrible video editor. Everything Frank did got in slow motion and had George Michael’s music. Yes, Careless Whisper. Good luck getting that song out of your head.

And it was easy to hide behind his sketches and continue asking for coffee. Frankly —oh, Frank?— it was the second best idea he ever had. Everything went perfectly until his bladder began complaining about the ridiculous amount of liquid he had decided to push inside it and maybe having two liters of coffee wasn’t his smartest move.

He got up from his seat, thinking that at least he wouldn’t miss anything Frank was doing because he wasn’t around. Now he needed to find the restroom as soon as possible, but was presented with one of the worst trends for people who were about to pee themselves: pictures instead of the classical iconography, which he agreed was way too binary and needed an upgrade, but at least they were easy to understand, right? Pink and blue, done. He didn’t want to risk it and getting into the wrong bathroom because he didn’t know what a flamingo stood up for. Why couldn’t they just be unisex? Was the gnome one meant to be for men because of the beard? There was also a third door with a watering can on it and it could’ve just been his brain making a connection with how much he needed to water the plants right now, but he went for that one. He wouldn’t let doors maintain their reign of terror over his life.

What he found inside made him think his doorphobia would only get worse. The restroom was occupied by a man —was it his fault for entering without knocking or the guy’s for not locking? —and he had his back turned to him. His pants were below his butt and was clearly not wearing any underwear, so his asscheeks were full on display and not only that, but also a pair of tattoos on them: a terribly tacky kiss mark on the left and ‘your name here’ on the right one. It was important to remember which was on which side. Gerard took a few seconds to look, unable to do anything else, because somehow he couldn’t believe his luck. Or misfortune?

“Is this turning you on?”, Frank asked over his shoulder and Gerard realized the guy had been staring at him since he opened the door. “At least shut the door, man.”

“Shit! Sorry!”, he rushed out an apology and closed the door from the outside.

He swallowed hard, the image of Frank’s ass fresh on his mind, making his heartbeat get out of control. His fuckin’ tattoos… He still needed to pee, but there was another way more urgent and important matter right now.

In the rush of his motherfuckin’ life, he grabbed his bag from the table and went out of the shop. His body was on fire, fuckin’ boiling; he only took the bag to cover his boner while crossing the street. He didn’t care about anything else, he needed to get fucked or he would die, simple as that. There was nothing he could say in his favor, he was just a fuckin’ pervert and wanted to write ‘GERARD’ in all capital letters on both of Frank’s tattoos so much it physically hurt. 

How the hell was he supposed to know the watering can meant ‘staff only’?

***

“Your friend left in a rush”, said Molly, the woman behind the register and Frank thought he might have been too obviously looking for him. There was no point in correcting her and saying they weren’t friends, because explaining what they actually were could turn wrong too fast.

“Rad”, he replied, getting to his position behind the counter again. He couldn’t stop staring at the entrance door and he knew he wasn’t being discreet, so he gave up and took off his apron. “I’m taking my break.”

“Hurry”, she said, but it wasn’t ‘hurry’ as in come back soon, but as in cheering him on to chase after his ‘friend’ because Molly was a damned witch and he hated how obvious his interest in the guy was to her. He was just glad he didn’t need to explain his feelings, because he was full of half thoughts and no idea how to word any of them. He didn’t even understand it completely himself, he only knew he had to chase whatever had started in that restroom.

Gerard was such an asshole… Well, what else could he expect from a guy who yelled out how much he loved him and couldn’t even remember his name the next day? He still debated whether he had pushed the mic button by mistake and even though it was pretty funny, Frank was still mad about the whole thing.

He went out and looked around. Not a trace from the motherfucker. He cursed under his breath and got his lighter from his pocket, because he _did_ have one and no, he had never lost it. What? Was he the only person on Earth who had lied to have an ice-breaker? Stop judging Frank.

He took a drag from his cigarette, frustrated, leaning on the wall behind him and it was his turn to get out of his misery by a phone call —which, for the record, didn’t startle him. “Hey Claire, what’s up?”

“Mr. Iero”, said the woman on the other side. “He’s here. He didn’t have an appointment, so we just squeezed him in at the last minute. Are you available?”

“Fuck…”, he complained. “No, I’m at work. Shit.”

“Okay, well. I did my part in letting you know.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll bring you coffee later.”

“Sure.”

Frank hit the wall behind him with a clenched fist. Of course Gerard would rather get impersonal sex instead of facing him. He didn’t know if he should be pleased with himself for getting him so horny he needed to get off right away or just keep being angry because it would be someone else fuckin’ him.

Well, needless to say he went for the second one. He was LIVID. Fuckin’ Gerard. Frank hoped he had a shitty time. He wished for him to get a premature ejaculator or the tiniest dick on the planet, like actual Guinness-records small. He was going to spit in his coffee next time he decided to show his face.

He finished his smoke and went back to work, because if he stayed outside any longer he was going to keep on driving himself insane by thinking about what was happening across the street and hating someone he barely knew, but somehow riled him up without much effort.

He got his apron back on, washed his hands and then turned around to be in front of a nervous looking guy. “Sorry, um… I’m looking for someone, have you seen a guy with long black hair and an Iron Maiden t-shirt?”

“Maybe. You got stood up?”

“Hope not…”

He fuckin’ hated Gerard.

***

Having completely forgotten about the date he had, Gerard was already with the upper half of his body on the table and the lower half on the next room, being penetrated by a stranger who had at least beat the three-minute mark of shame. Truth be told, it felt good, he was pounding him pretty… correctly and had even taken a few minutes to open him up, which Gerard was thankful for because he had been too impatient and aroused to do it properly by himself.

So, why was he feeling so unsatisfied? It was good, the man was doing an okay job, it was a dick just like any other one and he already knew about those things, because according to his calculations that was the third dick he had taken up his ass and that gave him knowledge and wisdom. He was on his way to become a cock sommelier and this one was just fine. Nice even. But something was missing.

He cleared his throat, a sound far away from his usual moaning while taking a pounding, because he just wasn’t feeling it. He stretched his arm and pushed the blue mic button for the first time —he thought at least. “Um”, he said, a bit shy, but willing to make the most of the experience. “Could you spank me, please?”

“You sure?”, a deep voice asked from the other side. Gerard didn’t care for it, if he was being honest.

“Yes. Please”, he said back to the stranger. Sadly, the slap he got in return was in equal parts hard and awkward. Gerard pushed the button again. “Nevermind. Go on.”

His arousal was abandoning him and his body felt weird, because in theory the guy was doing what he was supposed to, hitting the right place inside of him, which made him keep his erection, but his mind wasn’t there. And what was the fuckin’ problem? 

Well, that he wasn’t his Mystery Lover. He didn’t do things like _him_ . Gerard was still waiting for some sort of sign to surprise him and let him know it really was the guy who gave him mind-blowing orgasms and just knowing it wasn’t _him_ was enough to turn him off. His body was becoming a brat. A spoiled brat. 

In the meantime, the guy had finished his business and pulled out. Gerard let out a frustrated sigh. “You want me to get you off?”, he heard an offer.

“I’m okay”, Gerard answered after a few seconds of thinking about it. He thought he would just keep focusing on the differences and getting mad at the air. Now he just wanted to get out of there soon. That had been an awful idea.

He thanked Claire, trying his best to not look disappointed enough to get another lecture about refunds and once he was alone and free from the wall, he thought once again on why he was there. ‘Your name here’, he reviewed in his mind, thinking then of that hideous kiss mark that could only be an invitation, right? Frank had voluntarily put both of those things on his ass. Considering how many tattoos he already had on his body, it couldn’t have been a lost bet or a drunken mistake. He would’ve covered them up if that was the case, and besides, did he really need TWO tattoos on his ass? One on each cheek? FOR FUCK’S SAKE. HE FUCKIN’ HATED THE GUY.

He hadn’t even thought about Frank being a top or a bottom. Well, who the fuck used those roles to classify people? It obviously depended on the mood and a mutual agreement, but for Gerard it had always been more interesting to fantasize about getting stuffed rather than doing the stuffing, but he was now boiling again just thinking about doing Frank. His boner was back. He held it on one hand and used the other one to search for lube, while he let his mind free to think about whatever he needed to give himself some relief. He pictured himself placing his lips on the tacky kiss tattoo, giving it a big wet kiss, biting because if he was already with his face there, he was obviously going to bite him. He loved bites in sex, like a really bad porno of people pretending to be vampires. He would suck everything out of Frank.

“Frank…”, he said out loud, imagining his tattooed hands opening himself, spreading his own cheeks for him, inviting him to lick between them and fuck him with his tongue. He bet his moans would be spectacular, Frank had that kind of husky voice, and he thought he would start by groaning and finish whimpering from too much pleasure. Well, it was his own fuckin’ imagination, so he could do whatever he wanted. “Mh… Frank…”, he went on, his hand stroking rapidly down his shaft, all wet from lube and his own pre-cum. 

Since picturing stuff on his mind was free, he thought about Frank’s pretty lips around his erection. He had never given a blow job nor received one, so all he could picture was what he had seen on porn and well, he could allow himself to go deep in his throat and feel it around him while in reality he was pressing his thumb on the tip of his dick so it would feel like it. He didn’t know if Frank had a gag reflex, but in his imagination he didn’t.

He bit his lip, moaning, feeling so close… But there was still something missing, this tiny thing that made him stand up and just slap himself on the side of his ass that wasn’t sore; it was a bit sad how quickly he came, and also how thick his cum was and the fact that he had stained his Iron Maiden t-shirt. Fuck. He hated himself.

And things only got worse from there, because his screen caught his attention from the table he had left it on, along with his pants and underwear, and it displayed 9 missing calls.

“SHIT!”, he said out loud, just now remembering about poor Brad.

***

“Shit, shit, shit…” he continued cursing under his breath, his t-shirt a bit wet from his lousy try at washing the cum stains and his hair still moist with sweat. Of course he had to forget about Brad. How much of a shitty person he had to be to do that? He had to hurry, he was already half an hour late and hadn’t returned any of his calls, because he didn’t want to make him wait any longer by getting his phone out.

“Hope you enjoyed your visit, Mr. Way!”, he heard Claire’s voice and barely made a gesture to acknowledge her, because he needed to leave right now.

But since he was already a selfish asshole, he went back a few steps. “Hey, by the way, could I ask for…?”. He stopped. Listening to himself about to beg the woman for his Mystery Lover’s identity wasn’t enough to make him feel bad, but the vibration of the phone in his pocket did the trick of reminding him he was still a jerk. “Nevermind! Bye Claire!”

Claire gave him a confused wave and Gerard got out of there, feeling some tiny relief when he saw Brad waiting in front of the café. He rushed to cross the street, but of course looked both ways before because it was the responsible thing to do. Gerard could be a horny asshole, but a safe one.

“Brad!”, he called, out of breath, because he had a terrible physical condition and those kinds of things kept reminding him of it. “I’m so sorry, I’m such an asshole…” he began saying.

“Yeah… you kinda are.”

“Ouch, but fair.”

“What happened? Where were you?”

“I… got distracted, I guess. I’m really sorry, we can still, go inside and--”

“Na, it’s fine. I guess having a date with you was too good to be true.”

Gerard felt horrible hearing it. He wasn’t too good to be true, he sucked, and he was the worst that could happen to that innocent kid who clearly had a heart of gold and had been waiting for him even though he couldn’t even bother to answer his calls. A part of him wanted to promise he would make it up to him and give him the best date ever, just get him exactly what he was looking for, but he was afraid of not being able to actually deliver on it. It was too much, just knowing that guy had so many expectations out of years on having a crush on him… Gerard was sure he had made up another Gerard in his mind that wasn’t anything like the real one. 

It terrified him. He actually didn’t want to have that date, so he remained quiet.

“I just… I don’t know, I wanted to at least say thanks. I came out because of you.”

“Really?”, he asked, baffled, and couldn’t hold back the question he always had wanted to ask: “Why?”

The guy smiled, a bit shy. “Because you’ve always been so… you”, he pointed at him, as if it was an obvious way to describe him. “Unapologetic about who you are, flamboyant without a care, just so… true. It made me think about myself and want the same. I’m really grateful I got to know you.”

But he didn’t, Gerard thought. He didn’t know him. He wouldn’t be saying those things if he did, because that was the exterior he put out for other people not to hurt him, not to get too close. He was only Mikey’s big brother, the one who did stupid shit and grabbed the attention to himself because he was always scared of what could happen. There was no way he could think of himself in such a noble light, like Brad described. But his words did make him smile. “I’m glad I could help. You should always be yourself.”

“That’s what you told me back then”, Brad said and Gerard blushed a little realizing he didn’t remember it. “And to never let them take me alive.”

Gerard laughed. “Well, I stand by it. All of it.”

“I know. And I may sound a bit sad now, but I want you to know that I enjoyed having this crush on you. We all did.” Gerard gave him a confused look. “Half of our generation came out because of you. When you did that number at our school, remember? You sang in front of everyone, wearing a boa… We made a fan club after. Why are you acting like you didn’t know?”

“I really didn’t know.”

They both laughed. Maybe it was a good thing to be there catching up and Gerard thought about insisting on them getting at least one cup of coffee, but Brad spoke before he could suggest it. “May I ask for just one thing? As an apology for standing me up.”

“There’s no way I can refuse if you say it like that. What is it?”

“A kiss.”

Gerard tensed up his lips instinctively. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

“You can refuse, I don’t mean to force you… I just thought it’d be a good way to turn the page around, but--”

“Okay”, he agreed, finding it easier once he understood the reason behind it. It wasn’t the most romantic thing in the world once he took a step forward and tilted his head to find his lips, but the kiss wasn’t unpleasant. It was barely a touch, no tongues involved and Gerard got away after a mere few seconds.

Brad gave him a quick hug. “Thanks. Bye, Gerard Way.”

“Bye…”

“Brad.”

“Brad! Fuck, I swear I didn’t forget.”

The guy chuckled and probably had enough, so he just turned around and went his own way. Gerard still didn’t know how to feel. Was that bittersweet? Did he have any right to feel upset after he had just stood someone up for masturbating and then going on to reject the guy? Had he even rejected him? Oh shit, everything was spinning around, he didn’t understand at all and the voice he heard behind him wasn’t exactly helpful.

“What a heartbreaker.” Gerard looked over his shoulder and found Frank holding a cigarette between his lips. “Got a light?”

“Sure”, Gerard replied, searching for it in his pocket.

***

**Bonus:** The actual drawing Gerard wanted to make. (by verbluten <3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update because of my lovely verbluten's birthday <3  
> I'm sorry there wasn't much spanking in this one, but every single ass slap in this story will be dedicated to you.


	4. Jaded

“You should have knocked.”

“You should have locked.”

“Dude, why wouldn’t you knock? It’s common decency.”

“No, it’s not. Knocking is forcing an interaction on the other person, they have to reply because you knocked to let you know they’re in there. You should let people take a shit in peace. If there’s one place where someone should be just left alone, it’s the bathroom. You can’t break that sanctity.”

“Oh, and walking in on them isn’t a disturbance?”

“That’s why you should lock the door.”

“That’s why you should knock!”

It had been going for a while. Gerard didn’t know why it was so easy to talk to Frank, but he loved every minute of it. Never could he have imagined he would be laughing with a guy whose ass he had seen by mistake; if things hadn’t happened that way, he was sure he would have avoided that café forever, and Frank as well, just out of embarrassment. But there they were, Frank being totally carefree, leaning against the wall while Gerard had a hand in his pocket and a smoke on the other one, as if he hadn’t just masturbated thinking about him. Ugh. He looked straight ahead, convinced that if he stared at Frank directly he would somehow give away a face saying ‘hey-I’m-sorry-for-using-you-as-fap-material’, or even worse, HE WOULD SAY IT WITH WORDS, OUT OF HIS MOUTH. Shit, that was _definitely_ happening.

He needed to move before his stupid mouth got a chance, just win one for the brain team, getting it distracted with another topic so he could keep chatting with Frank as comfortable as they had been doing until then.

“Hey, so, what about those tattoos?”, he found himself saying. Yup, totally ready to be crowned as Local Idiot. The only good thing about saying something so dumb was that it couldn’t get any worse. “Kinda hot.”

KINDA HOT? FOR REAL, GERARD WAY? ARE YOU FUCKIN’ INSANE?

“Are you fuckin’ insane?”, Frank answered, letting out one of those chuckles that made Gerard’s knees weak and his pants to drop, figuratively. “They’re terrible.”

“Kinda inviting.” COULD YOU JUST STOP FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

Frank watched him for a second, smirking like he hadn’t seen him do before, and getting a bit closer than he needed to exhale the smoke from his cigarette. “I bet you felt invited.”

Gerard could feel the words forming in his mouth, he knew he was about to say just exactly how invited he felt and what he had imagined in excruciating detail, along with the precise angle in which he wanted to have his face buried between his ass cheeks and how many minutes he thought would take to suffocate and die a happy man.

However —out of pure luck?— he couldn’t get a single word out as he choked on his own spit. Yes, just like that, like a complete moron. Maybe it was his brain trying to sabotage his mouth and finally get a victory, and revenge as well. He coughed and Frank patted his back, which Gerard was still able to wish had been a lot lower. For fuck’s sake, he was so unsatisfied and overall, still horny.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Anyway, so… about your tattoos, you know--”

“You wanna keep talkin’ about ‘em?”, the guy laughed. “One’s a lost bet and the other a drunken mistake. I’ve been meaning to cover them up, but since it’s not  _ usually _ on display, well… hasn’t been a priority.”

“Which one is which?”

Frank assumed it was a joke. Gerard was so serious. “Hey, enough about me. Now  _ you _ tell me something embarrassing, it’s only fair.”

“I don’t have any tattoos.”

“You  _ must _ have some secret to share.”

Gerard thought about all of the embarrassing things he could talk about: living in his parents’ basement, masturbating so much it got boring, being sorta in love with a stranger who fucked him  _ good _ , being spanked in the wrong way like half an hour ago, also that he was pretty much into being spanked, and maybe a bit into BDSM but he wasn’t sure if it was out of touch-starvation or a real interest, oh and being a virgin just three weeks ago, and having a record of not washing his hair for four months and kinda miss having his hair that gross, and--

“Alright, secretive and shit”, Frank said, since Gerard kept quiet for a minute staring at the ground. “Who was the kid just now? Can you talk about that?”

“Brian?”, he asked, looking back where he went away as if he would be able to see his back again. 

“Brad, I think.”

“Fuck”, Gerard scratched his head. “He was my brother’s classmate. Kinda wanted a date with me.”

“Kinda?”

“Well, fully. Mikey told me--Mike’s my brother. He told me the guy had a crush on me from when I was a senior in high school and had been buggin’ him about it.”

“Mr. Popular.”

“Not at all! I wasn’t popular, I was just… Openly gay”, he realized. It wasn’t something he thought he was showcasing, but the picture Brad had just painted of him indicated so. “And that must have meant something to him, which is cool, but I wasn’t trying to be this big hero for him, you know? I was just doing whatever the fuck I wanted because in the back of my mind I always thought: it’s either this or killing myself. I was only saving my own ass, I didn’t even pay attention to anyone around me.”

Whenever he ranted like that he knew his counterpart would be making a face of awkwardness or pure boredom —well, anyone aside from Ray and Mikey; however, Frank’s face had an amused expression, even interested. In fact, he hadn’t tried to interrupt him and just made a gesture for him to go on and end that pause. Gerard took it as if it was a cold drink while out in the desert. He wanted to keep talking  _ so _ bad.

“So it was too-fuckin’-much. Dude, I’m glad I helped you, I’m flattered you had a crush on whoever you thought I was, but I can’t keep up with your fantasy, right? Like, never meet your heroes and shit. It’ll only lead to disappointment. I can’t compete with whatever Gerard Way has lived rent-free in your head for… how many years?”, he went off and then just stared at Frank. “I’m being an asshole, I know.”

“You’re being honest”, Frank weighed in. “I don’t think I’ve been in that kind of situation, but… sounds fuckin’ overwhelming.”

“Right?”, Gerard asked, amazed that Frank saw some sense in what he said.

“Yeah, but you were still an asshole. You could’ve at least remembered his name. Or show up for the date on time, he waited for you for like an hour.”

“It was half an hour!”, he argued, then rubbed his neck uncomfortably. “But yeah, I know. It’s just… Whatever. What you see is what you get, isn’t it? Now he won’t have doubts about me being a mess.”

“Fuck that.”

“What?”

“Fuck ‘what you see is what you get’. That’s a shitty excuse for shitty people”, Frank got suddenly serious. “You can always do better.”

And what happened next is something Gerard had only experienced a handful of times in his life: he was speechless. He even had a hard time getting his mouth closed. It felt as if his mind had just exploded and he was now able to ascend a higher plane of existence. Who the fuck was Frank? How could he just say something like that? Well, asked the guy who had just spilled his guts about his fears and insecurities to someone he had only seen a couple of times, even though that someone was the cutest guy on Earth and Gerard was willing to let him ruin his life in any way he desired.

The thing is: How was it fair for Frank to be  _ so hot _ and  _ so profound _ at the same time? Like, just stop being so perfect, please. Gerard was dying here.

He watched in silence while Frank stepped on the butt of his cigarette. “My break’s over. Are you getting a cup of coffee?”

“No, um. I have to get back home.”

“Well”, now Frank looked uncomfortable. “Sorry for lecturing you and shit.”

“No! You were right, it kinda blew my mind. You’re wise as fuck.”

Frank laughed. “Yeah, whatever. Just don’t stand up people anymore. I felt sorry for the kid.”

“Promise I won’t.”

“Rad. See you around, I guess.”

“Definitely!”, Gerard blurted out, way too eager, so he tried to compensate by adding: “Good coffee.” Frank smiled at him and winked, which caused Gerard to look down and realize his boner was back. 

Fuckin’ rad.

***

The situation in his basement that day was unusual for more than one reason: not only did Gerard have an actual guest who wasn’t his brother, but also his head was covered in bleach and his eyes shut tight while he tried to think about anything else aside from how much it burned. And itched! It fuckin’ itched like a fuckin’ motherfucker and who the fuck was the genius behind that idea because he wanted to punch him in the face. He felt his fuckin’ scalp was going to fall off, it couldn’t be worth it.

“Don’t you need ventilation for that kind of thing?”, Ray asked, playing PS4 in front of the TV.

“The fan is enough”, Mikey shrugged, more focused on applying the bleach evenly on his brother’s head. “Stop moving.”

“It fuckin’ itches!”, Gerard complained. “Why don’t we leave it as it is? I changed my mind.”

“I won’t let you go around with blond roots, Gerard, it’s horrible. Stay put and endure it.”

“I can’t!”

“Well, this was your idea. Suck it up.”

Right. Gerard wanted to punch his own face. “Well, not my best one, sorry, enough, leave it like this. MOTHERFUCKER, IT ITCHES SO MUCH.”

“Why bleach your hair anyway? You know you’ll have to wash it afterwards, right?” Ray poked fun at him, earning a pillow on his shoulder because as it turns out Gerard had a lousy aim when his scalp was burning and Mikey was tugging on his hair to try and keep him still.

“Nothing special, just wanted something new…”

“He’s got a crush”, Mikey butted in.

“Well, that too”, Gerard accepted.

“For real? And who’s the mystery dude?”

“No one.”

“A guy who works at Top of the Mug. And plays guitar.”

“What? Seriously?”, Gerard lifted his head to give Mikey a surprised look, but he just made him incline it again, no kindness at all.

“You didn’t know?” Ray stared at Gerard. Well, the back of his head. “Why does Mikey know more about your crush than you do?”

“No idea! He’s a fuckin’ wizard!”

“I looked him up on Instagram. It’s @frankieroshoulddie. Kinda emo.”

“Let’s take a look”, Ray said, taking out his phone.

“I want to see it too!”

“You stay put!”, Mikey ordered, forcing him to sit, but Gerard kept trying to turn around and avoid his hands so he would leave his head alone.

“Right, I know this guy! He plays so good, he’s like a beast on the stage, goes all berserker thrashing around… Fuckin’ insane. Fun to watch.”

Being Ray the amazing, kind and wonderful man that he was, he took Gerard out of his misery by lending his phone so he could see the pictures of Frank playing guitar: sweaty, dirty, his hair sticking to his face and his mouth fully open. His arms flexed while holding the instrument, his biceps on display, more tattoos that he hadn’t seen before, ripped t-shirts and jeans, and even licking his microphone?

Gerard moaned. Mikey smacked his arm. “Don’t be gross.”

“Alright, Mikey, go on”, Gerard sat on his own hands, determined to let Mikey fix him up. It  _ was _ worth it.

“Still, pretty big deal you having a crush… And doing all of this for him?”, Ray took his phone back and looked at the screen, trying to understand Gerard’s attraction for the guy, maybe.

“I mean, it’s for  _ me _ first.”

“But also for him”, Mikey butted in again. Gerard gave him a dirty look and was about to start arguing before Mikey laughed. “I think it’s cool. It’s sweet, I knew you would eventually start caring about these things when you met someone.”

“Well, I don’t know. I thought it could be a good ice-breaker.”

“Have you talked to the guy at all?” Ray questioned. 

“Yeah, a couple of times, we have smoked together. I don’t know…”, putting it into those words Gerard realized it didn’t sound as much, so he tried to explain it better. “Dude’s hot, okay? I won’t deny it, but there’s something else and I don’t know what it is, but it’s driving me crazy. It’s like--ouch, Mikey!”

“Stop. Moving.”

Gerard turned to Mikey again, despite the fact that he was trying to tell something to Ray and felt he wouldn’t be able to if he couldn’t use his hands to gesture and look him in the eyes. You couldn’t tell stories not looking at people. “Lost my train of thought.”

“You were saying you’re in love”, Ray offered.

“Right. I mean, no! I’m going crazy is what I said. The guy is like, profound and shit, you know? It’s like everything that comes out of his mouth could be a quote in a poster, I just wanna hear him talk all day, it’s not physical. Not only, I mean, I could also make out with him all day, but…”

“So you’re in love.”

“He’s in love”, Mikey confirmed. 

“It’s just a crush.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“Sounds like wedding bells”, Ray laughed. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re going for it, Gee. It’ll work out”, said Ray. Gerard blinked.

“Will it?”

“Of course, you know you can have anyone you want.”

“Can I?”

“Obviously, you have GAME.”

“DO I?”

“You absolutely do, I’ve been telling you forever.”

“He’s just fishing for compliments”, Mikey pointed out and Ray got close enough to smack Gerard’s shoulder for mocking him. Also to check out how his bleach was going and: “Uh”, he made a sound that didn’t point to a good outcome.

“What?”

“You can tell, huh?”, Mikey said. “Gee, when was the last time you dyed it black?”

“Like 6 months ago?”

“I’m gonna have to cut your hair.”

“What?! NO!”

“It won’t bleach all the way, it’ll be ugly.”

“I don’t care!”

“Do it for Frank!”, Ray cheered him on, placing his phone in front of Gerard’s face so he could see more pictures, scrolling through the guy’s Instagram feed without looking.

“You just liked one of them.”

“Seriously? Shit, and it’s an old one!”, he stared at his phone.

“Stalker.”

“Wait, lemme see some more!”, Gerard tried to get the phone back. “Oops, liked another one. Probably gonna think you’re into him.”

“C’mon!”, Ray complained.

“I’m cutting, for real.”

“NO!”, Gerard faced Mikey.

“YES!”

***

After he lost that battle to Mikey —surprising absolutely no one —, Gerard found himself in the corner in front of the café trying to smooth his hair enough to cover his forehead. He felt something missing from his face, his safety blanket was gone, now he was alone against the world without a shield. He couldn’t stop touching his hair, trying to get it right; it had been years since he last had it so short. Just yesterday, before Mikey decided to get rid of it, it had been touching his shoulders and now it was barely grazing his cheek? Weird. And that texture! No, it wasn’t due to it being clean, it was the bleach and the bright red dye that changed something. Why red? No idea, he just thought it would be hard to miss.

And if that wasn’t enough to get a reaction, he was also wearing tight jeans, boots, a ripped t-shirt and a leather jacket. C'mon, his motivation was obvious, did he need to make it clearer? He was just… trying to be better. Trying to give it a shot. He liked Frank, even if he didn’t understand what he wanted to obtain from him, but at least he knew he wanted his full attention, or at least more than he had received until now.

Maybe it was because of Brad. YES, HE REMEMBERED HIS NAME, OKAY? What initially filled him with panic about unfulfilled expectations became a kind of a challenge with a pinch of self-confidence. No matter how difficult it was for Gerard to see himself under a different light, it was impossible to be unaffected by the fact that he had so many admirers back in high school without knowing. There had to be some appeal to him, right? Perhaps he could even believe what Ray said about him having ‘game’. Ugh. Gerard  _ owned _ many games, but did he have it? Well, he had never tried before, like really tried to be appealing, it was always that old ‘what you see is what you get.’

But then came Frank’s words. ‘You can always be better’. He wanted to be better. It wasn’t about him feeling the need to change his appearance for somebody else, just about projecting on the outside how he felt on the inside, if that made any sense.

And maybe something wicked awoke deep inside him too. He wanted to provoke Frank, hopefully give him the same urge he felt when he saw those damned tattoos in the restroom —which he still wanted to bite, in case someone was wondering or just needed an update. He wished to see desire in Frank’s eyes. Those beautiful eyes. And that motherfuckin’ wink… Now he was second guessing his choice of tight pants, but nothing to be done about it, so he just started walking pretending to be really sure about himself.

He was thinking about what his opening line should be: “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this? Besides working”, “Here’s your Pumpkin Queen”, “Hey, nice shoes, wanna fuck?”. Well, they all needed some tuning, but he still had a bit of time to get there.

Except he heard a long whistle and immediately turned around to look. It was his first time getting catcalled and he wanted to teach that person a lesson about street harassment, until he realized he was —once again— in front of the motherfucker himself. “Wow, Gerard, are you trying to give me a heart attack this early?”

“I don’t know”, he replied, placing a hand on his hip. “Is it working?”

“It’s doing wonders for me, I can tell you”, Frank said back. Gerard just couldn’t figure out what was about the way Frank said things while smiling and using that friendly tone that kind of sounded like flirting, but could also be just a joke. It was amazing.

“Well, then, tell me all about it.”

Awkward. Fuck. What was he supposed to say? He wished he had prepared something better, he felt weird without a cigarette in his hands or a cup of coffee or any excuse to not be standing there getting stared up and down by Frank. FUCK. He was even getting closer to him and Gerard couldn’t decide what to do with his hands, so he just kept very still and stared back at Frank, holding his gaze. How could he define what was happening? He felt goosebumps all over and definitely a wave of heat coursing through his body. Was that eye-fucking? Would he get eye-pregnant?

“It’s a lot shorter”, Frank said and Gerard cursed Mikey in his mind. “Nice to be able to see your face.”

“My face?  _ Your _ face.”

“What? Is it a contest now?”

“No way, I’m no  _ competish _ for you.”

COMPETISH? THE FUCK? He had NEVER BEFORE said that word. Why the hell did he say it now? What if he kissed Frank to make him forget about it? If it went well, then that would mean he hadn’t screwed up that much and if it went wrong, well, then  _ that _ would be the worst thing he had done, and not being the kind of douche who said ‘competish.’

“Are you being an asshole again?”, Frank asked, looking above Gerard’s shoulder.

“Tryin’ really hard not to…”

“Hey, sorry, I’m Frank”, he reached out a hand behind Gerard, who thought he was getting a hug and took a while to turn around and realize what was really happening.

“Mikey”, the guy behind him said, shaking Frank’s hand.

“Oh, he’s my brother”, Gerard said, turning to Frank again.

“And Toro?”

“No, Way.”

“Hey man”, Ray shook his hand next, coming out from behind Mikey. “I’m Ray.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you play a few times. You’re awesome.”

“You too, dude.”

“Get a room”, Gerard mumbled. Mikey elbowed him.

“My shift is about to start, nice to meet you all.”

He gave Gerard one last smile and then it was time to look at the couple of idiots. “What the fuck?”

“Hey, I spent four hours dying and cutting your hair, I deserve to see the results of my hard work.”

“And I was just passing by”, Ray shrugged.

“You owe me coffee”, Mikey added. “Dude was totally starstruck by your new look.”

“Yup. I want coffee too”, Ray rushed them towards the café, so Gerard started walking and felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. “We should also talk about never ending words that way.”

“Oh shit, what the hell came over me?” Gerard blushed, rubbing his face.

***

Once the three of them were sitting with their coffees, Gerard dared to take a look at the counter and saw Frank’s back, chatting with his co-worker. He didn’t know what he was expecting, maybe some signal or something in his body language to let him know if they were on a ‘yes let’s kiss later’ kind of ground or a ‘no way in hell, buddy, you killed my boner with your awkwardness and why do you hang out with your brother, you won’t ever touch my butt tattoos’ kind. Gerard believed he was good at interpreting what people felt, but he was also pretty bad at it when it came to Frank.

“Do you think he likes me?”, he suddenly asked, interrupting Ray and Mikey’s conversation about who knows what. Gerard wasn’t paying attention because it wasn’t about him.

“I don’t know? It’s my first time meeting the guy”, Ray answered, reasonable. 

“It seemed like it? I mean, I only heard the last part, but he was standing kinda close. Until you blew it, that’s it.”

“You think I blew it?”

Mikey laughed, Ray shook his head, laughing too. “No, c’mon. It wasn’t that bad, you can totally fix the _ situash _ .”

“You just need a  _ solush _ .”

“But don’t do it now, it would be  _ unprofesh _ .”

“By the way, this coffee is  _ delish _ .”

Gerard tried to hide behind his hair and it just wouldn’t happen. He hated them, they were assholes, but pretty funny ones and he couldn’t believe how long that joke went on, until Ray finally came up with: “And then you gotta ask him what’s his favorite  _ posish _ ” and Mikey just started laughing so loud it was impossible to ignore. Gerard realized Frank gave him a curious look from behind the counter; he shrugged and smiled, feeling a bit of a blush again, just wishing he hadn’t heard any of that.

“Aah, good times”, Mikey sighed. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get to class.” He got up, patting Gerard’s shoulder. “Let me know how it goes, and don’t say more stupid shit.”

“You guys have traumatized the  _ ish _ out of me already.”

“Glad to be of help”, Ray stood up too, patting Gerard on the back. “Let’s go, I’ll drive you”, he said to Mikey and Gerard didn’t stop anyone from leaving because he already needed to be alone. He had work to do and it didn’t only mean to stare at Frank and try to come up with an answer for their current situash--FUCK, situation. He had actual, real work to do, a deadline for that same afternoon.

He took out his sketchbook and got to it. He was too immersed in his world to realize when his empty cup was refilled and just kept drinking coffee and drawing what he had to. Somehow he even managed to avoid getting distracted by stealing glances at Frank until about three hours later, when he strangely finished everything he had to do with an hour to spare. It was much more productive to be outside. He felt good about himself. So what if he sometimes said stupid things? At least he did his job and well, looking in the reflection of the window, he could accept that the change of look suited him.

Perhaps it was finally time to get up and ask Frank out. He wasn’t going to sit around and wait for the guy to make the first move, he could also do it, but he sort of wanted to minimize the possibility of rejection. However, he knew it was never going to be a 100% sure thing for him to say yes and there was only one way to find out his answer, so he channeled all of the superheroes he could think of to lend him their strength. Well, all of them were annoyingly good looking and ripped, so they wouldn’t understand his distress… Except for DeadPool, maybe. Gerard thought he was hot anyway. Whatever, that wasn’t the point. He just needed a little encouragement. He wished he had his Sting replica on hand… Then Frank would have to say yes at knifepoint. Oh no, that was a bad thing, bad Gerard, no threatening people to get a date!

He put his things away in his bag and stood up, running a hand through his hair so it wouldn’t be on his face, since Frank said it was nice to be able to see it… He  _ did _ like him, right?

“Gerard?”, he heard a voice when approaching the counter. The guy didn’t look familiar at all.

“Brad?”, he tried.

“No, I’m Kevin”. Eh, long shot. “We met on Grindr?”

“Right”, Gerard remembered. He was the guy who stopped replying to his messages, so he only managed to give him a strained smile, because one wasn’t supposed to mention a thing like that. “You didn’t reply anymore.”

The guy got visibly uncomfortable and changed the subject. “Hey, but you’re looking amazing, loving this new look on you.”

“Yeah”, Gerard agreed, because it was one thing to feel insecure around Frank, his Pumpkin King, perfection in itself, and it was a totally different one to show weakness in front of an asshole who wouldn’t pay attention to him when he had the chance. “I don’t know, I was bored. That’s how I roll.”

He ran a hand through his hair again and leaned against the counter, a confident attitude taking over. He couldn’t care less about the guy, but definitely wanted him to suffer and lust after him. He knew he looked hot.

“You look cool”, the guy insisted and Gerard could see in his face how interested he was. This was gettin’ fuckin’ delish--SHIT, delicious. “Give me your number and this time I’ll be sending the messages.”

“Sure”, Gerard reached out his hand so he would give him his phone. WHEN FUCKIN’ HELL FROZE OVER HE WOULD REPLY TO HIS MESSAGES. But he kept smiling like an idiot while he saved his number only to leave him on ‘read’. He was going to enjoy it so much. In fact, he was going to take a sexy selfie to use as his profile picture to get the guy even thirstier. What a sweet revenge.

“Great to see you, I’ll message you to go out again.”

“You do that.”

Gerard’s gaze followed him until he was out of the café and he even waved when the man turned around to see him one last time through the windows. The motherfucker wouldn’t even know what hit him.

“Anything else I can get you?”, Frank spoke to him from behind and Gerard remembered what he was originally after.

“Ah, um… Another coffee? While I wait for your shift to be over”, he smiled at Frank, using some of the confidence the encounter with that fucker left him with.

“You shouldn’t, it’s a long one”, Frank said without looking at him, getting a new paper cup for his coffee. No smile, no wink, no anything. He even looked pissed and Gerard had no clue of why.

“How long?”

“Pretty long, Gerard. Just keep on doing your stuff.”

Gerard took the coffee and didn’t know what else to say. Was there no solush--FUCK, solution? “Well… Guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Rad.”

***

Okay, but, what if he went back? Just walk in and told Frank: “Yo’, what the fuck —maybe lose the Yo’—. I’m only human, I’ll say stupid shit from time to time, but didn’t you like my face? Well, my mouth is part of it and it’s dumb, so if you don’t like what it’s saying then shut me up with a kiss, how about that?”. Winner speech, right?

If only the feeling of rejection sitting in his stomach wasn’t so paralyzing all he wanted to do now was get in a fetal position on the ground and pretend to be a shellfish unable to move, get up or deal with its problems. He didn’t even know if there was something to be solved at all, because that’s the way things went. Despite his almost zero experience on the subject, he knew all that flirting business was a no man’s land, where people had the freedom to stop talking to you and retract their interest anytime they wanted, for whatever reason, no need for explanations. And that was alright, he wasn’t really owed an explanation, but… Frank. Why Frank? Why that way? How to win back his interest? He was sure things were going well that morning, unless he read them wrong? Like in another language kind of wrong? Shit, he felt so lost.

He ran his hands through his hair, back to hating how short it felt, and then got a cigarette out because he didn’t know how else to deal with his anxiety. He smoked half of it way too fast and managed to get his breathing a bit slower, so he began to walk away from the café; clearly there was no point in waiting for Frank to come after him asking for a light. Fuck, he would give him 800 lighters for his thoughts. He wished he could read his mind. Could that be his origin story? A superhero who developed mind-reading powers out of pure anxiety. Maybe there was something there. He wrote it down on his phone just in case, and then messaged Mikey.

Since he didn’t get a reply after 5 seconds, he assumed Mikey had died. What a crappy day. First Frank rejected him and then Mikey died.

No, wait. Mikey was in class. Shit, just when he needed him the most.

Okay, but he had been talking and living with Mikey for so many years he was sure he could have a mental conversation with him and recreate him to perfection.

“Mikey, Frank blew me off.”

“Uh, not the good kind of blowing.”

“Is that something you would say?”

“I’m not sure, being in your mind is weird. It’s filthy in here… What are those?”

“Hey, no, don’t touch anything! Just talk to me. What am I not seeing?”

“You turned ugly in the last half hour?”

“Na, Mikey, I look fuckin’ hot. Why did he shoot me down?”

“What if he’s just having a tough day? Something could’ve happened while you were working on your stuff. You know, something that ISN’T about you?”

“Mikey, you fuckin’ wizard.”

Gerard smiled to himself without noticing how people were staring at him, because all of that talk was said out loud, Gerard imitating Mikey’s voice and acting both parts right there on the street. Quite a play. He also got distracted texting Mikey again: “You’re the best brother ever, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, not even me.” 

Mental Mikey was great. Gerard was able to calm himself at the thought of Frank having other things to be mad about instead of him, but now came another question: should he ask about it? They weren’t friends, but they had shared a deep conversation a few days ago. The thing is he didn’t know enough about what kind of angry person Frank would be. Silent and leave me alone? Screamer and give me a reason to vent? Sad and I need a hug? Horny and I want to fight but also fuck? What an interesting image painted that last one.

He scratched his head. Who would’ve known it could still itch so much? Well, it was also a playing-dumb gesture because his gaze had traveled to the place across the street. Color him still intrigued by their business model. How could it be just there, in front of such a normal coffee shop? It’s not like it had a big sign that read “LIKE A GLORY HOLE, BUT TASTEFUL” —they should hire him for their ad campaign—, but it was still there pretending to be a relaxation center, which… they kind of were?

UNLESS YOU GOT A GUY WHO COULDN’T SPANK YOU RIGHT OR LAST MORE THAN THREE MINUTES. Yes, Gerard could hold a grudge.

He bit his thumb nail, wanting to pay them a visit. His work was done and he desperately needed some ‘relaxation’ in the form of not thinking about Frank hating him. However, he knew things would get worse if he got paired up with someone who couldn’t do it right. And who could do it not only right, but perfect? Oh, no idea, he wasn’t thinking specifically about someone and remembering a bunch of dirty stuff that were just 10/10. And when he crossed the street in a rush, he really wasn’t thinking about that guy. Not at all. For real.

“Mr. Way”, Claire greeted him, smiling as usual. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, I…”, Gerard bit his lip. “Forgot to get a stamp last time.”

“Really?”, she asked while he dug in his pockets looking for his wallet and got out a loyalty card. “We’ll fix it right away.”

“Thanks”, he replied and began tapping his fingers on the counter, which Claire was polite enough to pretend didn’t annoy her. “So…”, he began, looking around as if it wasn’t a big deal. “How many stamps do I need to get someone’s information?”

“Another client’s information?”

“Yes. Someone I’ve been with.”

“We can’t do that, Mr. Way. Our clients’ privacy is a major concern for us”, she handed back his card.

“Okay, but what about…”, Gerard continued, both of them holding the card. “Just letting me know when he’s in so I can come over. I don’t need his name or anything personal.”

“That’s not how the service works, Mr. Way.”

“Not even for a loyal customer?”, he tried, along with his best smile and batting his eyelashes. He hadn’t used the big guns in a while. “Just between us?”

Claire sighed, looked around for a bit and then touched her tablet. “Who?”

“The guy from the first time I was here. And third. They were the same, right?”

Claire nodded and Gerard felt as if he had just won something, like the lottery or whatever. “I knew it.”

“This is not something that we usually do, but I’ll make an exception”, she said. 

“I love you so much, Claire”, his smile got bigger. “Just call me when he makes an appointment, please?”

She nodded again. Gerard could have kissed her right there, but fortunately didn’t. 

***

“VIVIAN! Large Americano!”, Frank yelled, placing the cup on the counter in a manner that could only be described as violent. The coffee spilled and Frank didn’t even apologize for it, just stared at the client waiting for them to say something so he would have a reason to argue and possibly end up in a fistfight. Molly got between them immediately.

“Sorry about that! I’ll make you another one”, she smiled and then placed a hand on Frank’s shoulder to get him away. “Why don’t you take a break?”

“I don’t need a break.”

“Yeah, you do, buddy. Go now before you bark at another customer.”

Almost growling, Frank took off his apron and threw it on the counter, trying to make eye contact with any asshole who could be feeling lucky, but it seemed his aura was feral enough to spook everyone out of his way. Shit, couldn’t he find one of those stupid jocks trying to impress their girl or whatever? He had met so many in his life and now they were nowhere to be found. He couldn’t take his own rage anymore and had to make do with taking out a cigarette —his hands shaking— and holding the filter between his teeth as he lighted it.

And why? BECAUSE GERARD WAS A JERK. He was a fuckin’ flirt who couldn’t keep it in his pants even when he was on FRANK’S FUCKIN’ TURF —obviously the place where he worked. Okay, right, he was free to do whatever he wanted, they weren’t dating or anything, but Frank wasn’t showing up in Gerard’s HOME to flirt with other fuckers in front of him. And it was the second time already; first that date where he stood up the kid but still kissed him on the street, and then that number exchange with that asshole that only approached him because of his new look. Was he  _ that _ desperate for cock? Frank could give it to him, but the motherfucker wasn’t able to stay alone for the whole three seconds it would take Frank to ask him out. Fuckin’ horny fuck, he hated him so much. And he hated how hot he looked now, and how funny he was, and how transparently horny his gaze and words were. He knew he wanted him and it made Frank insane.

He hoped the guy would leave him on read again. HE HOPED THE FUCKIN’ GUY CHOKED ON HIS PHONE.

“Hey Claire”, he suddenly said after answering a phone call. “I’m not in the mood, so you tell Gerard to go fuck hims--”

“He’s not here.”

The reply caught Frank off guard, because the part where Gerard went to get pounded after he basically told him to fuck off was kind of normal for what he knew about him. “He’s not?”

“He left after asking about you. I agreed to give him a call when you make your next appointment.”

Funny, because Frank had never made an appointment before. Also funny how Gerard had managed to surprise him by not jumping on the first available dick, as it was customary in that place.

Had he realized it was him?

“So… Should I give him your previous message?”

“No, shit, sorry! You’ve earned yourself a Frapuccino, missy!”

“Lucky me.”

***

As it turns out, drawing erotic mermen could only get him so far. He was aware all he could do now was wait, either for Frank to have enough time to deal with whatever got him in such an awful mood, or for Mystery Lover to get horny and ask for someone to fuck so Gerard could conveniently be right there to volunteer as tribute. It felt like the first time he had made an appointment, so anxious for it to happen, but somehow enjoying the wait. Did he have a masochist kink? Just to add it to the never-ending-long-as-fuck list of things that could possibly be wrong with him, but could also be normal depending on who he was talking with and where. Context. Such an important aspect. Context could change everything.

For example, now that he had stopped drawing and was very non-respectfully checking out Frank’s Instagram feed, what would he say if he liked an old photo by mistake? Explaining sometimes made it worse, taking it back too. In Ray’s case, he just followed him and left it as it was, which Frank apparently didn’t mind, because he followed him back and liked a few pictures of him playing guitar and Gerard was there, in his basement, late at night, checking who had liked whose pic, biting his nails at his own pettiness. He wanted to be in it too, maybe say he found Frank’s profile through Ray’s, but just the thought of Frank checking his own profile made him too nervous. Gerard’s Instagram was filled with drawings and pictures of cats he found outside, along with the occasional action figure he bought and his favorite comics. He wasn’t ashamed of it, but didn’t know if he was ready to find out what Frank thought about it. It felt too serious all of a sudden.

He would have to be satisfied by only enjoying Frank’s pictures and while he sighed, he thought that yes, he was indeed enjoying it a lot. As if being stupidly and insufferably hot wasn’t enough, the fucker was INTERESTING. He saw him playing guitar, jumping around, meeting people, petting dogs, getting new tattoos, and he just felt farther and farther away. He couldn’t even understand how they had met, just because of an impulse Gerard had of trying something new and Frank casually walking by outside. It was a freakin’ miracle. 

But Gerard decided to step away from that train of thought and focus on more simple things, such as: How many tattoos did he have? It seemed impossible to count, but Gerard took it upon himself to find out, going pic by pic to obtain different arm angles and check out that Lady of Sorrows, or manage to read the entire ‘Search and Destroy’ around his hips. He never thought a neck could be arousing and there he was, looking for photos where the collar of his t-shirt let more skin visible so he could make out what the ink there was, all of this being extremely careful to zoom in without double tapping by mistake. But really, what brought the most satisfaction was realizing there were no pics or even mentions about his ass tattoos. It felt like a secret he was part of.

“Are you decent?”, he heard Mikey’s voice and jumped a little, looking at his phone immediately to make sure he hadn’t double tapped anything.

“Yeah”, he replied. Of course Mikey rolled his eyes at him when he found him in his underwear.

“I knew you were lying.”

“Huh? But I’m not doing anything.”

“Sure. Checking someone’s IG in your underwear.”

“I’m not jerking off!”, he defended himself, raising both hands. He still covered himself with a blanket so Mikey would stop complaining.

“So?”

“So what?”

“How did it go with the guy? You asked him out?”

“I already told you I didn’t.”

“What? When?”

“Oh, in my mind. Sorry”, Gerard put his phone down. “You didn’t answer my call, but no, he was kinda pissed, blew me off.”

“Not the good kind of blowing.”

“Right? Well, and then you said it may not have anything to do with me and he was just having a bad day, so I’m trying to stay positive.”

“Shit, I’m so wise.”

“I thought so too”, Gerard was kinda amazed at himself by his mental Mikey. “But… What if this really isn’t meant to be?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m not his type? Maybe he thinks I’m annoying.”

“Has he ever done anything to make you think like that?”

“Not really, he hasn’t like tried to shut me up or rolled his eyes at me, you know, as people usually do.” Mikey’s stare was so loud he could really hear the ‘DUH?’ without him opening his mouth at all. “What if he’s not into men?”

“Gee… c'mon.”

“What? You can’t go around just assuming people’s sexualities, it’s something personal and so unique for each individual, it’s--”

“Is this you trying to run away from something the minute it got a bit hard?”

“Me? No, no way”, Gerard moved away physically from Mikey, as if that would help him escape that totally uncalled for accusation. “Pshhh, NO”, he made it worse. 

“Sure. Whatever. Just try again and stop living inside your head.”

“I miss mental Mikey.” 

Real Mikey punched him in the arm. Mental Mikey would never.

***

It was Friday when Gerard got a message that startled him so much he dropped his phone in the middle of his video-call meeting, making so much noise and rushed movements his co-workers stopped and asked him if he was okay, so he had to pretend he was and also that he wasn’t immediately texting Claire back something along the lines of  _ “I’LL BE THERE NO MATTER WHAT” _ , confirming the 18:00 appointment for that same afternoon. “Sorry, family emergency”, he said as solemnly as possible. How many emojis should he send Claire? Hopefully five cats and hearts would be enough.

Focusing on being a responsible adult for the rest of the day was difficult, to say the least, and Gerard found himself just fantasizing about the encounter every other minute. It would obviously be amazing, guaranteed satisfaction no matter what the policies of the establishment said. Expecting good sex out of a person who had already showed him what he was capable of was the easiest thing in the world. No ambiguities, no worrying about what he thought or felt, just so much more simple. Maybe Gerard wasn’t meant for serious relationships in real life, but rather for… well, getting pounded. Anyway.

“The usual?”, Claire asked him once they were inside one of the private rooms. Gerard kept his hands on his hips, looking around, building drama for his decision.

“No, Claire, I’m feeling daring today”, he declared. “Let’s try missionary.”

“No problem, Mr. Way. Anything else?”

“That’d be all, thanks.”

What happened next was that Gerard found a whole new perspective to the experience while laying on his back. He had never seen the ceiling in those rooms and wondered how they got it so clean, being so high up there. It was painfully white, could use a screen or something to read, maybe a quote? ‘Hang in there.’ ‘Get ready.’ ‘Don’t let anxiety take over.’ Fuck, he thought he didn’t mind waiting, but being exposed in this new way, just on full display for this stranger, was nervewracking. Well, ‘stranger’, air quotes needed.

Acquaintance? Whatever. 

He had shaved the same weird rectangle as before, purposely this time, so he would recognize him right away. Hopefully he would take it the right way. And why wouldn’t him? He had orgasmed on both of their encounters, Gerard didn’t think he had any complaints. Shit, he had just remembered about Kegels. No, no, everything would be alright. It was just that fuckin’ white ceiling messing with his head, and laying on his back, placing his hands on his stomach as if he was waiting for a doctor to give him a check up. It made everything weird. Maybe that was a bad idea, perhaps he should--Oh. Hi there, fingers. Welcome to the bald rectangle spot in Gerard’s pubes.

He bit his lip and clutched his clothing in his fingers. Of course he was still clothed from the waist up because it made him feel safe, and it was a hoodie again since he wasn’t planning on flirting with anyone that day. After the initial ‘greet’, if you could see it that way —and Gerard wanted to —, there was nothing else. He wondered if that posish--FUCK, position was too weird and what the hell the guy was doing. Calling security? Asking Claire for a refund he wouldn’t get? Or just… staring? What if he was staring? Could you feel a stare?

He swallowed slowly, because the idea of someone just staring directly between his legs wasn’t only embarrassing, but actually kinda hot and for fuck’s sake now he had to add exhibitionism to his already-too-long list. Why did he have to awake so many things in him? And also his dick, just now. He let out a sigh when he felt a pair of hands on his knees, spreading them apart and then caressing his thighs, going from the outside to the inner part, where it felt ticklish, but he managed to stay still. That was a good sign, he was getting touched, and it felt so good he had goosebumps all over.

By the time those hands got to his ass, his cock was fully hard. He had finally stopped doubting his position choice and just hoped the stranger was having fun too. Luckily he let him know he was, making everything extremely clear by leaning in and placing his lips exactly where Gerard had shaved. “Shit, fuck, shit”, Gerard eloquently said, his heartbeat increasing rapidly. Having someone’s face so close to his crotch was new, well, leaving aside their previous encounter where that same guy had just decided to give him his first rim job. Was he about to do it again?

Well, this time Gerard was sure he could take it calmly, just savor the moment. He already knew what to expect and even if it was really,  _ really _ , mind-numbingly good, this time he wouldn’t be desperately shouting. He would maintain his dignity. He was going to be in control, this would mark the day--”WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK YOU FUCKIN’ FUCKER”, he suddenly yelled, because of course the motherfucker would choose that moment to just blow him. The good kind, finally. Oh fuck, he hated him so much and it felt so fuckin’ good he didn’t know what to do with himself. He clung to the stretcher and moaned his lungs out, even though the guy was barely licking the head of his cock, which was leaking so much already, impossibly hard too. And well, now Gerard wouldn’t have to wonder anymore how it felt to have a tongue against his dick: fuckin’ GOOD, thanks.

But obviously that wouldn’t be enough for that guy. He felt how he wrapped his fingers on his shaft and then welcomed him into his lips and further inside, making him live his first penetration into another person’s body, and a pretty deep one too. Was that okay? Didn’t it hurt to be so far down his throat? It didn’t seem like it, because he could feel the vibrations of some sort of moan around his dick and then his hips just weren’t in his control anymore, shoving himself towards that mouth without asking for any sort of permission, and his dumb mouth shouting stuff like: “MARRY ME, MOTHERFUCKER, I LOVE YOUR MOUTH SO MUCH.” You know, like a normal person does when getting blown so skillfully.

Seriously, he couldn’t figure out how the guy was so good at multitasking, stroking him with his hand, allowing him to go deeper in his mouth and also flicking his tongue in just the best spots of his dick as if it was nothing. A freakin’ master, seriously. An artist of cocksuking. What a fuckin’ masterpiece this blow job was. He belonged in a Conservatory for Blowing Arts. Delish. 

FUCK, DELICIOUS.

He shut his eyes, focusing on the movement his own hips were making, picturing he was fuckin’ somebody, getting kinda of calm until the guy took him out of his mouth and lowered his tongue. It seemed he didn’t mind Gerard hadn’t shaved for anything other than a joke, because he licked his balls anyway and then made him spread his thighs so he could get to his ass again. “Fuck  _ yes _ ! Yes, yes,  _ fuck _ ”, Gerard continued with his poetry of swearing, which he would title ‘WHAT A WONDERFUL MOTHERFUCKER.’ WIP. And soon he had the guy’s mouth back around his erection and a couple of slick fingers against his ass, surely lubed up, circling around as he opened up for it. 

So not only was he getting blown, he was also being fingered and the mix was just insane. Gerard held on as best as he could and just kept shouting nonsense, not knowing how much more of it he could take, and even though his eyelids were shut tight, he suddenly opened his eyes in horror. He wouldn’t last at all! He was going to become what he swore to destroy: the guy who came after three minutes! NO, no way, he couldn’t do that to Mystery Lover.

He searched around for the mic button, pressing it hard, but it was just his luck to do it in the worst possible timing because the guy’s fingers had just found  _ that _ spot inside him and all he could do was moan loudly and say: “FUCK, FUCK--”

He covered his mouth immediately, his face completely red out of shame, and well horniness. He couldn’t believe the guy had heard him moan like that, but at least the thought was enough to avoid cumming prematurely. And his body got a bit of a rest, so he breathed slowly through his mouth, panting hard, until it was his time to hear his counterpart’s voice: “You okay?”, the words came out in a rough tone, surely because Gerard had just fucked his vocal chords.

He reached for the button again and pushed it. “Mh-hm”, he made the universal sound of affirmation. “You may go on”, he added, his voice a bit shaky. Fuck, was that too formal? What was the etiquette for that kind of shit?

Just guessing, he spread his legs open as an invitation to go along with his words and the guy played along, getting a third finger inside of him. He may have realized he was getting Gerard too riled up with his sucking skills, because he entertained his lips, teeth and tongue around his inner thigh. Was he mad at it, though? He was actually biting him and then licking and kissing the spots, but it felt pretty good, so he wouldn’t complain. Yup, pain kink, on the list.

Now that things had finally calmed down, Gerard tried to get his breathing back to normal, just moaning quietly and enjoying those fingers inside of him. He knew the best part was getting close, but he still liked being fingered and if he had been able to access his own dick, he would’ve started masturbating. Well, if he focused enough and recorded the feeling in his memory he could later use it as material. And he even indulged himself imagining they were Frank’s tattooed fingers. But just a little, because it seemed rude to Mystery Lover. Or Frank. It was definitely rude to one of them. 

He was suddenly empty and Gerard bit his lip, staring at the wall between them. If he was going to ever develop superpowers, he hoped it would be then and in the form of X-Ray vision. Oh, but no, then he would be seeing the guy’s skeleton… Hm, kinky? He wasn’t sure.

“Fuck…”, he whispered, feeling the already familiar touch of another cock between his legs. The guy grabbed his thighs, spreading them again, and Gerard made the effort of lifting his hips as he lined himself with his erection on his ass. He started pushing inside and Gerard let out all of the air in his lungs. It felt perfect, he didn’t breath again until he felt him all the way inside. “C'mon, move, don’t be shy.”

There were a couple of experimental thrusts, testing how that new position was going to go, even if it was only new to Gerard, who could now stamp the fifth circle on his fidelity card, which also marked the total number of times he had had sex in his life. And it was good to be alive, honestly.

The guy’s hands got on his legs again, behind his knees, folding them towards his torso and somehow managing to reach new wonderful spots inside Gerard’s body. His eyes opened up more, surprised of what a change of position could do. It was incredible, and the guy was performing as good as ever, sliding in and out of him easily; well, till he tried to do it faster and Gerard’s knees bumped against the wall. Maybe it wasn’t such a comfortable pose to try with a wall between them.

And maybe the stranger hadn’t done that before? Somehow Gerard thought of him as someone who was around fuckin’ people all day long, even though he knew that wasn’t the case because he had been paired up with the other two clowns. The idea of being the first in something made him smile.

But his smile was soon gone and replaced by an expression filled with pleasure; his calves were touching and being supported on the guy’s shoulders, making him feel his skin. Was Mystery Lover fully naked? FUCKIN’ KINKY. Okay, maybe it was normal to undress for that kind of thing, but Gerard hadn’t pictured him like that. Besides, his hands were holding his hips so tightly and each new thrust made him see fuckin’ stars. “Shit, don’t stop, no, please, don’t stop, c'mon,  _ harder! _ ”, he instructed no one, moaning out of control, lifting his hoodie when the heat was too much to handle.

And as if that wasn’t enough for his poor -5 virgin body, one of the guy’s hands reached his ass, squeezed it and then gave him a slap. A perfect one. Fully open hand, not so hard but not too weak, just in the most round part of his butt. It made him scream in delight, and then laugh, no idea why. His abdomen felt wet and sticky, from his own pre-cum, and his erection bounced against his skin with every new slap. The thrusting was getting harder and faster too, there was no way he could handle all of it for much longer.

He made no conscious decision when he came, he just did. He would’ve loved to keep going forever, but he was a pretty horny and touch-starved man, so as soon as he had a hand on his cock, all he needed were a few strokes to cum on his own stomach, as pleasurable and long-lasting as ever. It still felt arousing to be used by the guy a bit more while he chased his own orgasm. He felt the stranger’s cheek leaning on his calf and then his tongue and lips. He panted against his wet skin and Gerard didn’t know what else to do. He stared at the ceiling, completely fucked out.

***

About ten minutes later Gerard’s brain reconnected. The aftermath was already behind him and he hadn’t even realized it until then, while he dried himself with a clean towel and checked out the bite marks in his thigh. That was the part where he remembered why they had a don’ts list, but he actually didn’t care. It wasn’t like he had a boyfriend waiting to ask why the hell he had bite marks near his crotch. He would carry them with pride.

After getting dressed, he didn’t bother to hide the big smile on his face while walking to the lobby, passing Claire on his way out. “Bye, thanks!”

“You’re forgetting your stamp, Mr. Way.”

“Oh, right. Getting close to the free one”, he smiled, handing his card to the woman.

He went out focusing on his wallet while he stowed the card away and then breathed in that wonderful sunset air. What a great day. What a wonderful time to be alive. Maybe he would walk home.

Walking down the street he considered standing at the bus stop and just getting home sooner. If he did, he might be able to draw for a while or read comics, an excellent way to end his Friday night, right? What to do...

“Hey”, he heard and saw someone getting up from the bus stop’s bench. It was Frank.

“Hi! Is your shift finally over? Long one, huh.”

Luckily, Frank accepted the joke and smiled at him with just that fuckin’ beautiful smile of his, the motherfucker. “Yeah. Wanna go grab a drink?”

“Oh, do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big update?  
> Got carried away.


	5. Welcome to Paradise

While walking together down the street with Frank, Gerard was finally able to thank his mouth for taking control. Even though it felt like the understatement of the year to just reply “do I”, it had gotten the job done. He was now officially on his way to ‘grab a drink’ with his crush; no matter what happened, no matter how bad he could mess up afterwards, he would always have those seconds of happiness, staring at Frank, unable to contain his smile. He had no idea why, but Frank looked amazing. He was always beautiful, but now it felt like he was on another level. A relaxed expression on his face and his hair a bit wet and messy. Maybe he had just jerked off or something, he had that kind of glow. Well, Gerard was the horny fuck, not Frank. Perhaps he just had a good day. 

It also felt like Frank smiled back at him.

He decided to give his mouth a reward for keeping all of those 10 seconds shut and took out a cigarette, holding it between his lips while searching for a lighter. He noticed Frank patting himself, searching for his own, and didn’t have to think twice before offering the one he had just lit. “Thanks”, he said and Gerard rejoiced in the lack of disgust on his face. Indirect kiss: check. Saliva sharing fantasies: check. Not staring at Frank like a pervert: unsure. TBC.

A new cigarette was lit and he took a deep drag. Could there be a better feeling? All fucked out, a refreshing breeze from a night just starting and Frank by his side.

“So you live around here?”, Frank broke the silence. Gerard took a second to relish in the sound of his voice.

“Not at all”, he answered and just listening to himself made him laugh. “Any idea where we should go?”

Frank shook his head, exhaling smoke. “Let’s see where our feet take us”, he proposed, taking a moment to give Gerard a certain look, along with a smirk. “You good to walk?”

A completely innocent question, Gerard knew, but he still bit his lip in a poor attempt to avoid smiling when remembering what he had just done, which could certainly make walking a problem. Of course it wasn’t, he had enough… practice. Self-practice.

It would be so funny if Frank knew he had just been fucked for an entire week though. “Yup, love walking”. He was proud of his self-control, pretending to be a completely normal person and managing somehow to keep to himself his glory-hole experience. Well, ‘glory-hole’ was over simplifying it, he thought the concept was more complex than that and couldn’t be defined in such a way. Surely that’s the reason he hadn’t brought it up yet.

Besides, there were certain other topics he would rather discuss first, totally appropriate for this specific situation. He was even capable of focusing on his empathic powers to think of a proper introduction for a question he wanted to make that felt a bit intrusive, out of how relaxed he felt.

“Hey, can I ask you a question? Like, a personal one.”

Frank made a serious face, searching for his gaze. “Sure, man, go ahead.”

“Do you like men?”, he asked without further ado. Appropriate, right? Subtle. Normal. “Like, sexually.” Even better.

Frank laughed so hard Gerard had to smile, even though he didn’t get why it was so funny. “Are you fuckin’ with me?”

He wished. “You can’t just assume people’s sexualities…”

“For real? You still need to ask?”

“I’d like a verbal confirmation.”

“Fine, okay”, Frank stopped, exhaling a bit of smoke through his laughter and Gerard stopped with him. “I’m bisexual, so yeah, I like men and their respective cocks.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I’m gay, by the way.”

“Good to have a verbal confirmation.”

“Did you just assume?”

“Well”, Frank resumed walking, sliding his hands into his pockets after finishing his cigarette. “You gave me enough hints, I think.”

Well, he had nothing to argue there. From their first encounter Gerard had told him his face was beautiful and proceeded to stare thirstily at his neck tattoos. Then the restroom incident happened and he didn’t need to ask to know how blunt his horny face was, along with how his gaze was stuck to Frank’s secret ass tattoos, and as if that wasn’t enough, he was incapable of leaving him alone and kept pressing to talk about it. Shit, he had even told him he found them hot and inviting. Okay, Frank was totally cool assuming he was attracted to men. He would forgive him for not asking first.

“Do you like me?”, he asked directly, ignoring the fact that he had just been busted by smiling sweetly and fluttering his long eyelashes, acting innocent, knowing that it worked 90% of the time.

“You’re one sly motherfucker, Gerard Way”, Frank shook his head. 

“What about verbal confirmations?”

“Fuck you. How’s that?”

“A little aggressive, if you’re taking feedback.”

Frank gave him one of his beautiful fingers, which made Gerard laugh. It still surprised him that thing that happened between them, how they were able to laugh at stuff that should be awkward, in theory, or that would make Gerard have a panic attack or something. He thought that if Mikey saw him talking to Frank, he wouldn’t believe he was the same guy who walked in circles in his basement while talking to himself and overthinking every single thing.

And he also thought Frank did like him, although he would love to hear him say it. Even if he didn’t know him so well, he had already realized he was someone perfectly capable of rejecting unwanted advances. Now he was there with him, going out to get a drink, on a Friday night. Gerard would’ve loved to have Mikey and his parents waiting for him at home, missing him and just realizing that he had plans for once, but his family was way more popular than him and were already out on their own events. If he got home earlier than them, they wouldn’t even believe he hadn’t been there in the basement the whole night.

“How much time you got?”, he asked Frank, looking around to see what they could find.

“A lot, I’m usually free on Fridays”, he replied and then gave him another one of his smirks. “Why? Are you planning something?”

“Just asking”, he bit his lip. It was good to know Frank’s schedule, even if he usually was at the glory-hole place on Fridays.

“Your face says you’re thinking of something interesting.”

“Wow, my face is a snitch.”

“It’s pretty loud, you know?”

“I’m really not planning anything, this was a surprise for me. I just would love to talk to you without interruptions for once.”

“Yeah, me too”, Frank smiled, tugging his hair behind his ear. Fuck, Gerard wanted to eat him up. Also out. Eat him in every way. “You into Irish pubs?”

“I don’t really have an opinion on them, why?”

Frank pointed to the pretty obvious, huge and in front of them Irish pub they had just got to, finding it a bit ridiculous he had to ask. Of course Gerard had been stealing glances of Frank the whole time, it was a miracle he hadn’t run into a lamppost or fell down a manhole. And if they were going to discuss manholes tonight, he hoped it wouldn’t be because he fell down one, although he was willing to die in Frank’s. Um. Manhole was a funny word. Hopefully more manholes would be involved later that evening.

Once inside the pub they could see it was just as Irish as it seemed on the outside. Lots of wood, green lighting, beer themed decorations and a more quiet ambient than Gerard would have expected. It could be due to Gerard’s anxiety issues or just because his prejudices came from the content he consumed, but his idea of pubs was loud music, a bunch of drunk assholes and restrooms in which people had probably been murdered. This place wasn’t like that at all. It barely had people in it and they were all minding their own business at an okay volume, which gave Gerard enough confidence to walk in and choose a booth for both of them, where they sat in front of each other for the first time.

It was exciting. Gerard couldn’t stop looking at Frank, trying to memorize every detail, as if he was already nostalgic of something that was still happening. He knew he was going to be recalling that night constantly. It was going to be his go-to reference when faced with writing or drawing a romantic setting. It was the most romantic thing he had ever done in his life and it hadn’t even started yet.

Frank took off his jacket, showing off his black t-shirt underneath and Gerard had the opportunity to enjoy his tattoos in person, the same ones he had been analyzing —and drooling over— by himself in his basement. They looked so good. How come Frank always looked so good? Unfair.

“Oh, hey, hi. What beer would you recommend?”

“What kind do you like?”

“Stouts, usually. But I’ll go for anything. I wanna try something new, what’s your weirdest one?”

Gerard stared in silence while he talked to the woman taking their order. Frank was kind and a bit flirty, but he didn’t take issue with it. Just being there with him was enough, he wouldn’t make the same mistake again by getting greedy. He now knew better than that.

“I’ll have a coke, thanks”, he said when it was his turn and Frank gave him a curious look.

“You drivin’ or something?”

“No, I just… I’ve had a few problems with booze, I try to avoid it.”

“We could go somewhere else…”

“No, I don’t mind, really, I just--Wait”, he stopped, staring at the table, where Frank had his hands together, fingers interlaced. He took them and held them close to his face. “It spells a word?!”

“Well, yeah?”, Frank laughed and stayed there, letting him grab his hands. “You thought they were random letters?”

“Symbols”, he explained, touching specifically the  ø in one of his fingers. “Bookworm, huh? Clever.”

“Not enough letters though.”

“You could always use exclamation marks.”

“Two of them? Then I’d just be bullying people into thinking I’m clever. CLEVER!!”, he yelled out loud. Gerard couldn’t stop laughing and by the way, they were totally holding hands, in their booth, at an Irish pub. A full ‘dear diary’ moment.

He touched Frank’s fingertips, feeling the callousness in them because of being a guitar player. He was holding his hands as if Frank was a princess about to be kissed in a noble greeting. It was done on a whim of excitement because of his tattoos, if Gerard had planned to hold Frank’s hands, there was no way he would’ve come up with such a smooth move. He was kind of glad to be an impulsive idiot right now.

The moment was lost when they got their order. Frank’s glass contained a green liquid, which he drank without a single second of doubt or disgust. 

“How is it?”

“Good. Tastes like beer. Maybe a bit of mint, but could be the green stuff messing with me.”

“Your lips are green now.”

“Really?”, he laughed and tried to wipe it out with his thumb. Gerard had never wished so hard to be a thumb. Yes, he had wished for it before, but never so hard. “Do I look poisonous?”

“More like radioactive.”

“Rad”, he said, raising his glass to Gerard’s soda. “Cheers to that.”

“Cheers to Marie Curie.” 

They both drank their own beverages and even though they smiled at each other and kept eye contact, they were faced with something they hadn’t encountered before: silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable at all, just something normal that happened when two people who hadn’t talked that much were suddenly alone and had to choose what the next topic was going to be. Of course Gerard was freaking out, trying to pick inside his head from all the things he could say, having an overload because the only thing he really wanted to do was hold Frank’s hand again, or get close to him in any way, and was just trying to come up with scenarios what would allow him to get on Frank’s side of the booth, maybe even on his lap. What if he spilled his drink on the seat? Or just set it on fire?

“Hey, it’s so cool your friends with Toro”, Frank saved him once again. “How do you two know each other?”

“Mikey dragged me to one of his shows.”

“You don’t like live music?”

“No, I do, it’s just the crowds and general awkwardness I’m not a fan of. Ray’s band it’s pretty good though, I go see them when I can, and stay for bands he or Mikey recommend.”

“You should come to one of mine”, Frank smiled. “We’re good too, and playing tomorrow.”

“I’d love to!”, Gerard replied, not even bothering with playing it cool. He immediately pulled out his phone. “Gimme the details… Oh, is it okay if I follow you on Instagram?”

“Sure?”, Frank paused, smiling a little bit and giving him that curious look he sometimes had. “We’re beyond asking that kind of thing, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, maybe? I don’t want to seem like a stalker, I just got it from Mikey and--”

“You mean Ray?”

“That’d make more sense, wouldn’t it? No, I… mentioned you a few days ago and Mikey’s nosy. He found your profile.”

“So you were talking about me?” he pointed out, a completely smug smile on his face. “What about?”

Gerard’s mind traveled to the moment in which he decided to tell Mikey about his interest in another human being and it wasn’t as much a decision as it was a moment of sudden stupidity. Mikey had stared at him for three seconds longer than usual after saying hi and Gerard had just blurted out “I think I’m in love”. He immediately reminded both of them about how he didn’t believe in love and it was probably just a dumb crush, which led to a lengthy conversation about who that magical person was and every single detail about the few times they had met by chance. He obviously didn’t mention the glory-hole place because it had nothing to do with Frank, aside from the fact that they first met in front of it.

Anyway, thinking about it made him blush.

“Don’t make me say it…”, he muttered.

“ _ Make _ you? You can just refuse, you know?”

Gerard let out a laugh and tried to hide behind his drink. “You know I can’t if you ask me like that.”

“Like what?”, he played dumb.

“Fuck you, you know exactly how.”

Frank’s smile got wider, leaning over until his knee bumped into Gerard’s under the table. “Tell me, then”, he insisted. “I want to know how much you told him.”

“I… just said I met a hot guy at a coffee shop, okay?”, he confessed the least humiliating part and went back to his phone, trying to get away from that conversation, although he still could see Frank’s smile getting more smug than before. It didn’t really matter, it was beautiful, totally worth it. He would tell him he was hot 50 times a day if it made him happy.

“Well, he’s your brother. Guess it’s safe enough”, Frank said, pulling out his phone too. Gerard got a notification from Frank following him back. “So you’re a cat person.”

“I guess, but I like dogs too”, he rushed to clarify, not only because he had seen dogs on Frank’s feed, but because it was the truth.

“What’s this? Dude, did you draw all of these?”, Frank changed the subject, pointing out to Gerard’s drawings, making him smile proudly. “I saw you sketching at the café, but I didn’t know you were this good, man. These are amazing.”

“Thanks, they are actually from a comic book idea that I have.”

“Seriously? What is it about?”

Gerard had never needed 100% of the attention of whoever he was talking to to rant their ears off, but realizing Frank’s interest for his story was genuine made him want to share everything he had. He started from how he got the idea for Umbrella Academy to showing him a side-by-side comparison on his phone with the first sketches for the characters and the latest ones. He even did the voices he thought each of them would have.

“And that’s a fish in a bowl with the body of man?”, Frank asked when they got to the character, looking attentively at Gerard’s screen.

“Yes, their backstory is…”

A notification interrupted the conversation and both of them read it before being able to agree on the correct etiquette for that situation:  _ “Hi! This is Kevin, from Grindr” _ , it read. Gerard got a big grin on his face, rejoicing in the fact that the guy had messaged him and he looked at Frank expecting him to smile too, because revenge, right? But somehow he seemed upset. Extremely serious. Gerard remembered he hadn’t told him anything about it.

“It’s just an asshole that--”

“You don’t need to explain”, Frank cut him off. “None of my business. I’m takin’ a leak.”

“Make sure to lock the door.”

“Fuckin’ knock this time, pervert.”

Gerard saw him get up and felt weird. He turned his attention to his phone and opened the chat message, but didn’t reply, just left on ‘read’ as he wanted and then typed in the chat group he had with Ray and Mikey.  _ “Guys, I think I’m on a date? I’m having a drink with Frank, Irish pub. I think it’s going well. How do I know if it’s a date? Should I ask? What constitutes a date? I think a verbal confirmation, for starters. Oh, I got a verbal confirmation on him being bisexual! Doesn’t mean he likes  _ **_me_ ** _ , though, but maybe he does?” _

He pressed the send button and then spent an excessive amount of time picking emojis to express his emotions, sending 30 of them without getting a response from Ray or Mikey, so he assumed they had died. It was such a shame and a pain in the ass to write two obituaries, but maybe he could use the same structure and change details where needed. Obviously he should start with ‘they left us too soon’ and then a personal anecdote. For Ray, that time he let him straighten his hair and for Mikey, when they did their My Little Pony cosplay contest. It was a great story because Gerard had won as Fluttershy, his favorite.

On Instagram he saw stories from Ray and Mikey, out partying. Well, he wouldn’t need obituaries afterall. Good to know. He checked Frank’s stories: sleeping in, hugging his dog and then walking near the café, singing a Misfits’ song. Okay, what the actual fuck. Gerard loved The Misfits. He needed Frank to fuck him like yesterday. Seriously. What the hell could he do to suggest it?

“All done. Wanna go for a smoke?”, Frank offered, standing next to him. Gerard nodded and followed him immediately.

“Oh, the bill…”, he remembered and looked around for their waiter.

“Already got it.” Gerard’s face made it clear he wanted to pay for his half, but Frank shut him down quickly. “You can buy next time.”

“Well, yeah, I _ have _ to, otherwise it’s going to haunt me forever.”

Frank shook his head. Gerard saw him smiling and felt calmer. Part of him was convinced he had ruined everything, because he always thought he had ruined everything, but also because Frank had looked upset before their pause. Luckily they were back to getting along. Sure, they were a bit quiet, searching for an alley near the pub, checking there was no one around. Gerard got his pack out and handed Frank a cigarette.

“I keep smokin’ yours.”

“That’s because I’m flirting with you”, he replied, flashing a crooked smile, and offered his lighter too, which Frank accepted placing a hand over Gerard’s. He was getting worried about how any type of contact with the guy made him feel it would never be enough. 

He needed to chill out and tried to do so by inhaling deeply and leaning against the wall, taking a moment to look up at the night sky, avoiding the thought of how persistent and direct he was being with Frank. The stars were beautiful, still visible in that part of Jersey, and they made him grateful for being alive. It wasn’t only about being there with Frank, but about being there at all. There were times in his life where he wasn’t sure if we would make it. He was also thankful he hadn’t completely shut himself from trying new things, taking risks even if he was scared, because it felt good to try. No matter what happened next, he was glad to have the memory of it. It was a good night, it had been a good talk and he had good company.

However, a part of him was also looking at the sky searching for a Mikey/Mufasa to confirm if that was a date or not. A Ray/Mufasa could also work, it was easier to picture the mane. He couldn’t decide if it would be Ray with a lion’s mane or a furry version of Ray with a lion’s face and his own curly hair. He wanted to focus on what they would say to him and just assume their advice since both jerks had decided to go out and live their own lives instead of helping Gerard figure his out.  _ “Stop thinking about us, you moron. Focus on your date.” _

_ “So it IS a date!!”,  _ he mentally told them.

A cloud of smoke made his vision blurry all of a sudden and his fantasy died. Looking to his right, he saw Frank blowing smoke into his face, on purpose, probably to get his attention. Gerard smiled, happy to have him so close. Their arms were touching. He was warm.

“I feel like you wanna say something”, he teased out of nowhere. 

“Maybe YOU wanna say something”, Frank taunted, a playful smirk on his face.

“I wanna say a lot of things. I could keep on rambling about Umbrella Academy. Or start a new one about The Lion King. Have you seen it as an adult? And have you given any thought to how much of a furry icon Simba is? Adult Simba, because--”

“For fuck’s sake”, he heard Frank just as he felt him grabbing his chin roughly, pulling him down the few centimetres he needed to reach him, and then proceed to shut him up in the best possible way: with his mouth. Glorious, incredible, truly show-stopping. Gerard had never been shut like that before.

The first touch from his lips was as magical as confusing. They were warm, soft and tasted like tobacco and beer. He didn’t know how the hell he managed to close his eyes, but he did, letting his brain get into a quiet freak out because Frank was kissing him.

He crushed the smoke on the wall behind him and got both hands on Frank’s hair, finally able to dig his fingers in it and feel his skull. Was he being creepy? Scratch that, he was only happy to touch his hair, twirling his fingers around the shoulder-length locks. 

Frank’s tongue licked his lips and Gerard opened his mouth to let it in. It was by far the best kiss he had ever been a part of, not because of true love or something dumb as that, but because it was very different to be standing awkwardly not knowing what to do kissing someone who had asked for it and Gerard thought: sure, why not. He was now answering the question he had been wondering since coming across that beautiful face for the first time: How would it feel to kiss those lips? Fuckin’ amazing, that’s how!

He wanted Frank so badly he felt his blood boiling. He couldn’t stop kissing him, it didn’t feel like enough and the way Frank was shoving his tongue also made him feel desperation on his part. It was fuckin’ good to feel wanted, desired even, and his head had no clue as to what was actually going on, completely overstimulated, but he knew they were leaning against the wall and the kiss kept getting wetter and hotter than expected, spit on their chins and hands exploring what they could reach, since their bodies were pressed together and starting to grind into each other. Frank was pretty intense, taking the lead just like that, and Gerard couldn’t help but follow.

“Jesus… fuck”, he realized Frank was speaking, his voice affected, and his lips just a few centimetres away from his. He had placed a hand on Gerard’s chest to push him away. “Take me somewhere private right now.”

Gerard was panting, so close to him he could still feel his body heat and his words went straight to his crotch, for real. It was a line taken from a porno, or his fantasies. And it took him a moment to realize it hadn’t been Frank the one who escalated things, but himself: he had Frank pushed against the wall, trapped with his body on him, one of his legs up between his thighs and one of his hands underneath his t-shirt, touching the skin on his back. And his other hand? On Frank’s ass, of course, still squeezing.

“I mean, loving the energy…”, Frank went on, chuckling softly, staying where he was. “But exhibitionism’s not one of my kinks.”

“You have a list too?”, Gerard asked and Frank took the chance to push him again so they could untangle. Gerard didn’t stop him.

“A list of what? Kinks?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Don’t we all?”, Frank laughed, pushing down his t-shirt after Gerard had lifted it. 

Frank made everything feel so simple, Gerard had no idea how, but he took away his insecurities with a few words and made him feel normal. Or at least like any other person, free to express however he wanted to without spooking him away. Maybe it wasn’t about being normal, but about knowing there were other people as weird as him or at least accepting of his weirdness. He had a lot to think about on that subject, but he didn’t need to know exactly why they were so good together to not let him go.

He took his hand. “My house’s empty.”

Frank intertwined their fingers and got close enough to lick his lips and give him a short kiss. “Lead the way.”

Once they were able to breathe normally again and had the promise of being as soon as possible in a place where they could just let go of that heat they both clearly were experimenting in their bodies, they let the cold breeze of the night do its job while walking to Gerard’s house. They were holding hands like idiots. Well, Gerard thought he was the only idiot, because he was having troubles again keeping his eyes where he was going and he had run out of manhole jokes, so he really didn’t want to fall into one.

“Did you mean like a literal list?”, Frank asked.

“What’s a literal list?”, he questioned back.

“Written down?”

“Oh, no, I meant a mental list. I try to keep one. I have like the ‘probably safe kinks’, the ‘should I worry about these?’ and the ‘definitely will get you arrested’.”

“Woah. I only have like ‘shit I shouldn’t be into but I’m so into it’s not even funny, but it’s still kinda funny’ and ‘shit that’s normal and people totally get’.”

“I wanna hear about the first one!”, Gerard squeezed his hand, excited as if it was Christmas. Or Halloween.

“Hey, no, that’s cheating.  You have to find that shit out on your own. ”

The face Frank made  — furrowing his eyebrows like he wanted to be serious but still looking just hot and inviting — was now on his kink list. “But I need to know if we’re going to have sex.”

“C’mon, where’s the fun in knowing everything?”

“What about consent?”

“That hasn’t been a problem before.”

“It could be now, you never know.”

Gerard thought he was convincing enough, making a really good point to finally break Frank’s conviction so he could now reveal his private wishes. However, he suddenly shook his head. “Then we discuss a no-no list. Secret kinks are something you gotta earn, man”, he insisted and stared at him. “What’s a no-no?”

Through Gerard’s mind went Claire’s suggestion of a don’ts list he had never made. He wouldn’t have a panic button this time, so he really tried to picture himself in a situation where Frank pushed his limits, but he had no idea how that could go. Namely, he was pretty much okay with him being rough, spanking him  —fingers crossed he would—, tying him up, making him beg, humiliating him, biting him… Fuck, he was so horny now.

“I don’t know, I’m willing to try anything once.”

Frank bit his lip with a really curious smile. “Seriously? Just like that?”

“Yeah, I mean…” Gerard shrugged. “Why not? It’s always good to exp--wait, needles. Yeah, no, that’s a no-no.”

“Dude, why would I… Nevermind. Okay, no needles. Anything else?”

Gerard shook his head. “What about you?”

“Doing it raw, not using lube, anything including animals… furry is out of the table too, by the way”, he pointed out and let go of Gerard’s hand because he needed both of them to count. “Adult baby syndrome, balloons, whipping and… oh, right, don’t call me ‘daddy’, please. I hate it. I don’t get it, I get along great with my dad, I don’t want to think about him while fuckin’.”

“Furray!”

“I’m sure it’s pronounced furry.”

“No, if Ray was a furry.”

“Oh. Is he?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Glad we have a name for him if it happens.”

“I have so many questions!”, he declared out loud, running both of his hands through his hair while trying to organize many thoughts.

“About what? Dude, breathe.”

“Your no-no list! I mean, there has to be a story behind each of them, right? It’s like when you read a sign in a public restroom that says ‘use only this way’ and you’re like: what have people been doing to need these instructions? Like, what’s the story behind BALLOONS? Why? What did they ever do to you?”

“Gerard, seriously. Breathe.”

“Call me Gee. I feel like I did something wrong when people call me Gerard.”

“You did something wrong, you’re asking me about my trauma with balloons.”

“Oh”, Gerard stopped, looking deflated. Fuck, balloon pun. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

Frank could hold his serious expression for like two more seconds and then burst out laughing. Gerard actually punched him in the arm. “You asshole! I thought I triggered something.”

“I have no traumatic experiences in that area, except for the time I watched a porno with clowns involved and let’s just say big, colorful shoes and ‘honk-honk’ noises are a huge turn-off too.”

“I might have to change some of the plans I had for tonight.”

It was Gerard’s turn to get punched in the arm.

***

Before unlocking the door to his house, Gerard gave Frank the usual explanation: he lived with his parents and Mikey, the three of them were out and wouldn’t be back until dawn because they were normal people who made plans on Friday nights and not a fuckin’ loser like Gerard, just a little less self-deprecating. Frank told him he also lived with his parents and they made a few bitter comments about the economy  —it sucked— and other pretty hot takes about capitalism —fuck that. Then Gerard turned on the lights and let him in.

It was only when he locked the door with Frank inside his home that he realized… Well, Frank was in his home. Frank Iero. Frank Anthony Iero. Frank The motherfucker himself Iero. Standing there, on his carpet, with his hands in his pockets looking at him all like ‘how long are you going to stare at me, why am I here, c’mon you fucker, I’m uncomfortable.’

“Sorry”, he rushed to say. “Follow me.”

He stepped in front of him and flipped the switch for the basement’s lights, getting on the stairs. “Watch your step”, he warned. It wasn’t so much about Frank being a clumsy fuck who would fall down, but about Gerard having tripped enough times he felt the need to warn anybody who visited.

“You live in the basement?”, Frank asked, pretty excited. “Rad.”

As soon as Gerard stood there, he had to look around from an outsider’s perspective. He was so used to being there that he couldn’t see the mess anymore and now that he had someone who he would love to impress, he couldn’t find anything impressive about his living situation. “Yeah… Sorry it’s messy. I didn’t… you know, expect company.”

“It’s okay”, he said. “Need any help?”

Gerard wasn’t going to clean up, he thought it would be enough with acknowledging the problem and apologizing, but Frank looked in the bed’s direction, which they obviously needed, and he realized the large quantity of art supplies on it would make it difficult, and also the dirty dishes and food wrappers. “Na, I got it. You can… look around if you want.”

Even if it was messy and dirty, Gerard took special care of his figures, comic books and DVD’s collection. They were his most interesting possessions. “Dude, you have like every single version of Robin here.”

“Yeah, it’s just… his costume is so bad, so useless. I love it”, he explained, even though Frank wasn’t asking. Gerard didn’t get defensive either, he just really wanted to let him in his train of thought. “Batman’s all dressed in black, ready to camouflage into the night and attack from the shadows and there’s Robin, in fuckin’ neon colored spandex, presenting himself like a lollipop for villains.”

The laughter he got out of Frank went on his kink list too, snort included. It wasn’t only nice to hear, he also loved how his face lit up when something was funny to him and Gerard was having troubles focusing on his task. He was picking up sketchbooks and loose sheets without getting his eyes away from what Frank was doing, tracing the titles on his comic books with his finger, stopping in a few of them, maybe because he knew them or hadn’t heard of them at all, and then he stayed in front a figure; Gerard couldn’t tell which one from that angle, but needed to know.

His theory about people being able to feel stares got stronger grounds when Frank turned around to see him, startling him. “Almost done”, he lied, because the bed was pretty much in the same state as before.

“Just let me help, dude”, Frank complained, getting closer to grab a few things, following Gerard to place them on his desk.

“You don’t have to”, Gerard insisted, lifting dishes while Frank got the garbage can to throw away the most obvious trash. “I feel bad making you work.”

“I feel bad doing nothing”, he argued. 

“Sorry I brought you here, maybe a motel would’ve been better…”

“C’mon, this place’s cool. And the smell isn't that bad.”

“Thanks”, Gerard smiled, allowing himself to be a little proud. The bed was mostly cleared after they moved all of the shit to another surface and both of them were able to sit on it. Frank touched the Star Wars logo on the comforter and Gerard realized his hands were sweating, so he tried to dry them on his pants as subtly as he could.

That was the problem with not having teleportation. If they could have teleported from the alley scene into the bed scene without pauses they could be still kissing and rutting against each other, dry humping like teenagers. Now they both were pretty clear-headed and Gerard had no idea how to get somebody else in the mood for anything. He was always in the mood, he was easy.

Before giving the chance for Frank to save him again, Gerard spoke: “Hey, wanna see my dagger?”

Frank raised his gaze, not sure if he should laugh or take it seriously. “Sure? That’s what I’m here for”, Gerard reached under his bed and took out a box. “So that’s not what you call your dick…”

“What? No”, Gerard furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s called The Staff of One.”

“My bad”, Frank had to say, since Gerard made it seem like the most obvious fact, with no space for arguments. He didn’t want to argue anyway when he saw the replica, reaching his hand to hold it and see it up close. “Dude, Sting is what I call  _ my _ dick!”, he said, excited.

“That’s awesome”, Gerard replied in all honesty, because it was. Not only had he recognized it without him having to say it, but Frank also liked LOTR enough to name his dick after it  —and how cool was it that he also named his dick, right? 

Well, that certainly had awakened something in him. The mood was set.  “Can I see it?”

Frank was about to ask what was ‘it’, but looking up to find Gerard staring not-at-all subtly between his legs was enough to understand what he meant. “You showed me yours so I gotta show you mine?”

“A Sting for a Sting.”

Frank took a deep breath and pressed the bridge of his nose, trying really hard to hold in the laughter, which was completely useless after Gerard beat him to it, and just like that they were both laughing with tears in their eyes. It was amazing.

“No, okay, let’s get stabby things out of the way first”, Frank instructed, getting close to Gerard so he could place the dagger inside its sheath and then let him set the box on the floor.

They were still smiling because it was difficult not to after that stupid moment, but Frank took advange of being close to Gerard and placed a hand behind his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. When it happened, Gerard was again confused about who took the initiative of laying down, if it was Frank by laying on his back or himself pushing him to do it, but the result was the same. He was on top of Frank, on the bed, kissing him. He felt movement and heard Frank’s sneakers thump on the floor. He did the same with his boots, even though it implied a few clumsy moves trying to get the zippers undone and a lot of willpower to keep kissing Frank, because he couldn’t bear to be away from his lips for even a second.

Frank gave him space between his legs and Gerard moaned deep in his throat when their crotches rubbed together. It was even better than when they were standing. Now their bodies fit perfectly together and he could push his hips, rubbing against him as much as he wanted. He got his hands on Frank’s sides again, who did nothing to stop him, just moaned on his lips. Gerard was feeling hopeful about him being loud too.

Then he couldn’t take it anymore and tried to open Frank’s jeans, undoing his fly before he realized he was also wearing a belt. It was hard to handle the buckle from that angle, but he tried his best, letting Frank lead the kiss for a moment and just keeping his mouth open so he could get his tongue in. It was obviously a priority to get a good look of Sting  —this time the dick named after it, not a dagger replica. But the kiss was also too good to stop. He had no choice but to open his eyes and look down, fighting the belt.

“For fuck’s sake”, Frank rolled his eyes when he realized why Gerard wasn’t into the kiss as much. “It’s like you’ve never seen a dick before.”

“I want to see  _ yours _ ”, Gerard said, firmly. And it was true that he hadn’t seen other dicks in person, but he didn’t think of commenting on it because that wasn’t the point.

Frank pushed Gerard’s hands away and got the belt unbuckled, lowering his pants and underwear enough to let his semi-hard dick out. Gerard obviously stared as shamelessly as possible, his mouth hanging open. He thought about a thousand words to describe his feelings towards Frank’s cock, but they were so many he couldn’t choose any of them. He remained speechless for a second time. 

“You okay there?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just… Why is your dick so pretty?”

“It’s…. I… Thanks”, Frank muttered and Gerard had a split second to wonder if he had done or said something stupid before Frank took his hand and put it right there on his crotch. Gerard felt all of the air in his lungs abandoning him. He couldn’t believe he was touching it.

Frank grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in again for a kiss, but Gerard kept talking. “It’s getting hard…”

“Yeah…”

The tone in Frank’s voice let him know he wasn’t bothered by him narrating what was happening, which was good, because there was just no way to shut him up right now. He was fuckin’ touching Frank’s dick, he would NEVER shut up about it.

“It’s so hot”, he went on, even though Frank was licking his lips and then went on to bite the lower one. He guessed that if he really wanted him to shut up, he would shove his tongue in like he did before. It was amazing to be touching somebody else, feeling in his own fingers how he hardened, even twitching when he grazed a good spot, as if trying to communicate with him. “Can’t wait to have it inside me…”

“Gee…”, Frank’s voice was worse than before, giving up on trying to kiss his lips and going instead for his neck, which gave Gerard shivers. He liked it enough to tilt his head to the side so Frank could keep going. With his free hand he caressed his abdomen again, picturing which tattoos were there. He was surely touching the ‘N’ from ‘and’.

And after a while, it again wasn’t enough. His hands were pulling on Frank’s t-shirt. “Take it off”. 

Frank did with no hesitation, just took off his jacket and threw it on the floor along with his t-shirt. He tried to go back to kissing Gerard’s skin, but he was now clutching at his jeans. “All of it, I wanna see everything.”

“So demanding…”, he teased, even though he didn’t make him wait, just gave him what he wanted, socks included. Gerard wasted no time getting his hands on him, stopping on every single tattoo, his eyes fuckin’ sparkling.

“Fuck, how are you even real?”, he whined, seriously, and got his face on Frank’s chest, grazing one of his nipples with his lips. Frank moaned. “You are real, right? I have a strong imagination, but…”

“Can you fuckin’ undress already?”, Frank cut him off, pulling his clothing too. “Unfair, motherfucker”

“I’m gay, is it legal to call me a motherfucker?”, Gerard thought out loud and took off his hoodie, throwing it aside and then pulled up his t-shirt. After getting it over his head, he went on: “Why isn’t fatherfucker a thing?”

Frank sat on the bed and undid his pants, obviously not pleased with his partner’s distractions. “I told you not to talk about fathers. Do we need a safeword?”

“Sorry, but you brought up mothers.”

“You make me so mad sometimes”, he let him know, yanking his pants and underwear off his body with no delicacy whatsoever, getting them midway in his thighs so he could see his horribly shaven pubic hair. Gerard had forgotten about it and Frank obviously made a big deal by touching the hairless rectangle. “Wanna explain this?”

“Not really”, he said, a bit insecure, but it wasn’t like he could say no to Frank, that was a lost cause. “It’s an accident that turned into a fashion statement.”

Frank laughed just like before and Gerard never thought he could have been so happy with a guy laughing while being near his cock. Nothing was happening in a way he could have imagined, but he liked it a lot. He wasn’t nervous, it was actually weird how comfortable he felt. He took a moment to get up so he could finish undressing, barely realizing it was his first time being completely naked in front of another human being, and then he went back to lay on the bed, next to Frank, who welcomed him by placing a hand on his hip and more kisses on his neck and collarbone. “So, what do you wanna do?”

It was a question with a complicated answer, because he literally wanted to do  _ everything _ with him. “I do want you to fuck me”, he said. That was important. “But I’d like to suck you off first. Although I want you to suck mine too, so… Where to start?”, he was so serious. Frank laughed again.

“Is that a cute way to propose a 69?”

Oh, shit, he forgot those existed. Noice. “It wasn’t, but now it is”, his face lit up immediately.

“Alright, turn around then”, Frank instructed as if it was the only way to do it and Gerard realized he didn’t know the logistics of the act in real life, having only seen it in porn videos.

“You won’t mind having my ass on your face?”, he asked, trying to be mindful or respectful picturing how it would go. Frank obviously wasn’t concerned.

“Sit right here, dude.”

It was too soon to tell him he loved him, right? For a brief moment he missed the privacy of the glory-hole place, where he could scream he wanted to marry his partner and no one would take it seriously. No matter how patient Frank was with him and how interested he could be in having sex, that would definitely make him run away, block him on Instagram and maybe get a restraining order and change his name. Yeah, pretty much that exact scenario.

Anyway, what a miracle it was that he showered before running into Frank! He had his sexy encounter to thank for that. And now he realized he was about to have sex twice in the same day. Wow, what a player. He was a bit proud of himself.

At least until he took position on Frank, his head pointing towards the foot of the bed and his knees near Frank’s shoulders, already being able to feel his breath on his thighs and just then he remembered he had bite marks on them. Shit. Should he try to explain? He felt Frank’s fingers on one of them, but didn’t hear any words or questions, and then he just pressed his lips on the skin, spreading kisses while one of his hands grabbed his erection. If he was upset about it, he didn’t show it. And when he felt his tongue on his cock, Gerard forgot about his own name. 

Fortunately, he was able to open his eyes despite how good it felt to be blown for the second time in his life, and found himself in front of Frank’s dick, contemplating his own fuckin’ luck. He  _ was _ the luckiest bastard on Earth, because that was the prettiest dick that ever existed, for sure. Well, he wished he had more experience in the Blowing Fine Arts so he could make it good for Frank, but his desire to have him in his mouth pushed his insecurities away. What a great way to avoid self-doubting, just shoving a cock down his throat. Classy too.

Finally Gerard’s oral fixation came in handy. He was the kind of guy who always had something in his mouth, usually pens, sometimes his own fingers and the occasional dildo, no big deal. His licking game was excellent and he enjoyed finally receiving feedback from the object he was fellating; Frank’s dick was still hard under his tongue and his hips started pushing up, towards him, and he could taste victory in his precum. Those signs gave him enough courage to place his lips around him and let him inside his mouth, testing how deep he could allow him. He never had a gag reflex with his toys, so he was confident to try taking him deeper. His fingers wrapped around the base and he tried bobbing his head up and down, as he had sadly only seen in porn videos. Where the fuck was he supposed to learn this stuff?

Big thoughts for someone who was already practically screaming from how aroused he had gotten. It was too much of everything; he didn’t know how good it would feel having a dick grazing the roof of his mouth and his throat, and of course now Frank was spreading his cheeks and making him feel his tongue directly in his asshole. Okay, it was definitely the second thing that was making him lose his mind. Just picturing Frank’s beautiful face rimming him was way too much, he didn’t even need to be touched to be leaking his own precum on Frank’s chest.

And as if all of it didn’t make trying not to cum before time a torture, Frank just straight up moaned against his skin, his tongue inside of him. Gerard’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his thighs were trembling, it was impossible to hold it in any longer. He had to pull Frank’s dick out of his mouth and ignore how much he drooled over him.

“I-I can’t…”

“You want to stop?”

“No, I want you to fuck me. Now. Yesterday. NOW”, he demanded, trying to look back at Frank, who just laughed a little and wiped his chin with his hand.

“You got any lube?”

Gerard nodded and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling his ass already wet, but they needed more lubrication and not using it was a no-no in Frank’s list. His legs were a bit wobbly when he stood on them to search in his nightstand. Of course he had lube, but he realized he didn’t have any condoms. Who would he buy them for? His hand?

“Ran out of condoms though”, he joked about his non-existent sex life. He thought it was pretty funny, until he saw Frank rolling his eyes, not in a good way. Tough crowd, huh?

Frank reached down on the floor next to him for his jeans and got a condom from his pocket. “Got it.”

Requirements were met and placed on the bed and Gerard wondered if it would be fine for them to kiss considering the places their mouths had just been. “Is it okay to kiss?”

Frank got a warm smile on his face and pulled him into bed again. “It is”, he let him know, reassuring him by putting his lips on his while making him lay down and getting on top this time. “You want to turn around?”

“No, I want to see your face.”

“Alright, lift your legs.”

Gerard did as told. Between how blindly he trusted Frank and how difficult it would be to find something to be embarrassed about after visiting a glory-hole so many times, there was no way he would hesitate. Luckily he was too distracted watching Frank getting lube on his fingers to mention it, and he just closed his eyes and let him do preparations. It only felt good, he was still a bit loose from his previous encounter, so there wasn’t any resistance for the first finger. He made a satisfied noise and Frank soon got a second finger inside of him.

He bit his lip, smiling just because of the satisfaction of knowing it was Frank fingering him. Fuckin’ finally. He didn’t have to use his imagination anymore, because this time it was really him. His tattooed hands were finally spreading him open and touching inside, he felt like he was melting, it was...

All of a sudden, he opened his eyes, swallowing all of the saliva that had gathered in his mouth so he could speak. “Which fingers are you using?”

Generally speaking, Frank had been quick enough in following Gerard’s train of thought, but now there was no clue to understand what he was talking about without asking: “What?”

“Which fingers do I have inside?”

“Index and middle?”, he said, unsure of it being the right answer.

“So…”, he paused to think, even though Frank didn’t stop prepping him. “B and O?”

“You’re talking about my tattoos?”

“Yeah, I can’t see, I wanna know.”

“Is there a difference?”

“No, I just wanna picture it.”

Frank pulled out his fingers and held them up, pressing his index, middle and ring fingers together so Gerard could get the idea. “I always use these”, he explained, blessed be his patience. He didn’t even look bothered by it, he seemed amused by Gerard. “B, O, W. You freak.”

“Thank you, please continue.”

Even though Gerard didn’t appreciate so much the implication of other people in Frank’s use of the word ‘always’, he was happy to satisfy his curiosity and getting an accurate mental image for his next masturbatory session picturing his ‘Hallo’ hand and the holy trinity of his fingers, now called ‘Bow’.

He soon had all of Bow inside of him and he felt like there was no point in pretending he didn’t love every second of what was happening, so he just moaned as loudly as he needed to. “Fuck, that’s good…”

“You like it?”, Frank asked, getting his fingers a bit deeper and moving them around to touch just where Gerard wanted, which caused him to moan harder.

“Oh, yeah, right  _ there! _ ”

“You’re so loud. It’s hot”, Frank bit his lip, giving him a hungry look. “You think you’re ready?”

“I sure as fuck am”, he reassured him, opening his eyes to see him. The look on his face would have to go to his spank bank as well.

Even though he was horny as fuck and everything felt so overwhelming, he forced himself to keep his eyes open because there was no way he was going to miss the moment Frank ripped open the condom packet and then unrolled it on his erection. He looked really focused on doing it properly and also in applying enough lube, but when he raised his head he found Gerard’s gaze and they both smiled at each other. It made Gerard feel warm in a totally different way.

Still, he wasted no time in making the invitation clearer by spreading his own legs further apart and Frank settled between them, placing a hand behind one of his knees to raise it, while his other hand grabbed his dick and lined it up to his ass. He entered slowly and Gerard closed his eyes without realizing. As soon as he did though, he forced them open again, getting a good look at Frank’s face, his mouth open and his brows furrowed; he could have had an orgasm right there.

Frank only opened his eyes when he was completely inside of him and even though his face was already flushed, he kind of blushed. “You okay?”

“Yeah, keep going”, he said, licking his own lips. Frank didn’t make him wait, raising his other leg to his chest. The position made him think of Mystery Lover for just a second, because there was no comparison having Frank right there, doing that to him on his own bed, being able to see his face and touch him. He was sure he wouldn’t last long. “Mh… just like that”, he said without thinking. “You’re so good…”

Frank’s fingers were clutching his thighs, keeping his legs bent against his body, and Gerard’s hands held tightly on the Star Wars comforter. “Oh, fuck, deeper… please...”

When Frank actually did what he said, Gerard could appreciate how nice it was to communicate with the person who was fuckin’ him. Who would have thought. “Yes, yeah,  _ harder! _ ”, he went on, thrusting his own hips up to meet Frank’s, who was already slamming into him.

“Keep... talking”, he heard Frank say, his voice a bit rough, but he could tell he was enjoying it.

“Frank, fuck, I love your dick”, he said between moans, because there was no way he could stop now. “You’re fuckin’ me so good… Mh...”

Frank’s mouth was hanging open and so close to Gerard he thought they would be able to kiss if he tried to. However, he got distracted when a drop of saliva got on his face. Frank didn’t realize, he had his eyes closed, but Gerard thought of a stupid idea and didn’t keep it to himself.

“Spit in my mouth”, he heard himself say. Frank opened his eyes and stared at him, but didn’t ask him if he was sure, he straight up did as told, no hesitation, as if he was the one who had the idea first. Gerard got spit in his mouth and lips, which he licked immediately and then swallowed without breaking eye contact. “Thanks...”

Gerard fuckin’ loved how Frank’s dick got bigger inside of him; he found his kink.

That’s when Frank completely lost it and just started pounding into him like there was no tomorrow and Gerard confirmed he was successful in riling him up. He would have liked to be able to coordinate himself enough to ask him to do it again, or just ask about other kinks to try, but anything beyond writhing in pleasure beneath him was just impossible. He got to the point where he was just screaming and cursing, like they had no neighbors who could call the police. “Fuck, shit, Frank, I’m so close! Please don’t stop!”, he begged, holding his own legs to his chest so Frank could enter deeper.

Having his own hands free, Frank placed them on Gerard’s ass and squeezed hard before slapping him. Gerard was sure he saw stars. “AGAIN, PLEASE! Please, Frank!”, he yelled without an ounce of dignity and Frank just gave it to him, he slapped his ass again and Gerard came on his belly before he could say anything else.

“Gee, fuck…”, Frank mumbled, grabbing hard at his hips while slamming into him a few more times until he reached his own orgasm and Gerard made sure he didn’t miss any details of his O face. He was now ready to die happily, that was all he wanted from life. 

After panting for a bit, Gerard finally let go of the grip on his thighs, pretty sure he was going to be sore tomorrow. He tried to breathe through his nose again. Frank looked so gorgeous on top of him, all sweaty, his hair sticking to his face. He smiled when caught staring and was convinced he had finally achieved telepathy powers seeing Frank lean in to kiss him, because that was just what he wanted.

Then Frank got up and removed the condom. Gerard’s gaze followed him and then stayed in the trash can where it ended. Frank’s semen was in his trash can… Nope, Gerard. C’mon. Don’t think about that.

He tried to be helpful by reaching his pants and taking a couple of cigarettes, offering one to Frank, who went back on the bed next to him. Both of them took a moment to relax. It was nice.

Of course Gerard was the one to break that wonderful and quiet moment. “So… Dirty talk.”

“Fucker”, Frank elbowed him, being totally caught, but with no intentions of denying it. “Yeah. And you”, he pointed his finger at him. “Have a tattoo kink.”

Gerard made a ‘DUH, what else is new’ gesture. “You knew that already.”

“Spanking too.”

“Well… yes. Thank you, by the way.”

“No problem.”

“Spit kink”, he accused.

“You too!”

“I do not!”

“Dude, you clenched.”

“I did not!”

“I was in there!”

“Fine. I’ll add it to the list… It’s so fuckin’ long already”, he complained, running a hand through his hair. Frank laughed, maybe he thought it was a joke. It didn’t matter, Gerard laughed too and once again thought about how comfortable and overall nice that was. He sighed deeply, exhaling smoke and his gaze got lost somewhere in the room. “I wish my first time had been like this.”

Frank also took a moment to breathe in and out his smoke. “You gotta pick better dudes.”

Gerard shook his head. He wasn’t going to badmouth Mystery Lover. “He wasn’t a bad guy, it was a shitty situation. I mean, it was still enjoyable and he blew my mind, but I made it… transactional and impersonal, I guess. This is much better. It was fun.”

Frank got up and smashed his cigarette on the ashtray next to Gerard. He thought he was going to ask where the bathroom was or something like that, but Frank began picking up his clothes and putting them on. Gerard didn’t know how to stop him, it actually made sense for him to leave, he couldn’t just ask him to stay over.

“Well. Yeah. It was fun”, he finally said and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. Gerard realized he wasn’t making eye contact, not even when he told him: “DM me if you wanna fuck again.”

“Sure, thanks.”

“I’ll show myself out.” Gerard thought that was it until Frank took a few steps back on the stairs to add: “Don’t forget the show tomorrow!”

“I’ll be there”, he smiled.

Okay, that was fine. He had loved having sex with Frank and now had an opening to repeat it, so there was no need for that horrible feeling setting in his stomach. It didn’t make sense, he was supposed to be happy. He finally had someone to fuck.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all blame Verbluten for bringing Furray into our lives.
> 
>   
> Thanks, I hate it.
> 
> By the way, I'm adding tags as I go, please check them so you don't get traumatized. Thank you for your support!


	6. Don’t wanna fall in love

The ceiling in his basement was a lot more comforting than he gave it credit for. Mostly due to the color, having gray instead of that infuriating white, and also the texture, rug-like instead of that annoying immaculate and artificial perfection offering no safety at all, not like his basement did. He had been staring at that ceiling for years, but he hadn’t even remembered that it was there in the presence of Frank. It was almost as if the place didn’t matter as long as it was Frank. Everything would be okay if he could see his tattoos, touch his skin and have his dick inside his mouth. That was a comforting thought.

Gerard was the luckiest bastard on Earth, never again allowed to complain about his life. He had sex with Frank Iero. Frank Anthony Iero. Frank the motherf--you get the idea. He was still laying on his back and just now had the idea of turning over to smell the sheets and yes, they smelled like Frank. Manly sweat notes, just sublime. He was never washing those sheets. Oh, well, also to keep Frank’s scent.

There was nothing he could ask for anymore. Before turning 27, Gerard Way had already reached his peak in life and now all that was left was living things that would never come even close to the happiest day of his life, which was kinda depressing, but--

“SHIT!”, he cursed, bringing his hands to his face. He was an idiot. He had completely forgot… “FUUUUCK!”

He didn’t get a look at his ass tattoos! He hadn’t even touched his ass at all! Much less bite it, or lick it, or rim it, or any of the other things he had wanted to do. How could he be so dumb? Well, yes, he had done other stuff, including his first 69*, so it wasn’t a complete loss, but he still regretted not bringing it up.

Because Frank had been so open to doing anything Gerard wanted… He was a saint, for real.

And Gerard remembered he had said ‘DM me if you wanna fuck again’, so it wasn’t all lost. He hoped to eventually have the chance to get better acquainted with Frank’s ass and achieve true happiness. It also gave him a new goal in life, more reasons to live. He smiled to himself and squashed his cigarette on the ashtray before grabbing his t-shirt from the floor to clean cum residues on his belly.

It was still early, barely 11 at night and since he didn’t have it in him to jerk off —pretty unusually— he wondered what he was supposed to do.

He reached out for his phone and saw a few messages in his group chat.

 **Gerard:** Guys, I think I’m on a date? I’m having a drink with Frank, Irish pub. I think it’s going well. How do I know if it’s a date? Should I ask? What constitutes a date? I think a verbal confirmation, for starters. Oh, I got a verbal confirmation on him being bisexual! Doesn’t mean he likes **me** , though, but maybe he does? (19:55)  
**Mikey:** It IS a date, stop talking to us. (20:59)  
**Ray:** Have fun! (21:30)  
**Ray:** Hey, where are you? You need a ride? (22:10)  
**Mikey:** Hope you’re not answering because the date is going great and not because you got stabbed. That would suck. (22:32)  
**Ray:** (sent a photo) Got lucky? (22:55)

Gerard opened the picture. It was a screenshot from Frank’s stories, walking with Gerard’s street in the background. In his Instagram, he saw a video where he talked about the upcoming show and invited people to come see his band.

 **Gerard:** Yeah, he came over after the drink. I showed him my dagger. (23:01)  
**Gerard:** Also my dick. (23:01)  
**Gerard:** We fucked. (23:01)

He gave them exactly 10 seconds to answer and then got bored, as it used to happen.

 _Gerard changed the **[group icon.](https://i.ibb.co/BK2dpGF/Whats-App-Image-2020-07-30-at-21-58-45.jpg)**  
_ _Gerard changed the group name from “The Fabulous Killjoys” to “In Furray we Trust.”_

 **Mikey:** lmfao (23:05)  
**Mikey:** omg I’m dying (23:05)  
**Mikey:** can’t breathe (23:05)

Gerard could see Mikey’s face, totally deadpan while he sent those messages, which didn’t mean he wasn’t laughing on the inside.

 **Mikey:** Ray says what the fuck, he’s driving. (23:06)

Mikey sent him an audio of Ray saying just that: _“What the fuck did I do?_ ” and then one from him: _“Congrats on losing your v-card.”_

Gerard snorted. The phrase made it impossible not to call him. “V-card? Seriously?”

“What do you want me to say? Popped your cherry?”

“That’s so gross.”

“Congrats, Gee!”, he heard Ray in the background. That’s when he remembered he hadn’t told them about the actual time he lost his virginity a few weeks ago, at the glory-hole place, and he still thought virginity was a useless social construct —as pretty much all of them were. However, this was the first time he got naked with someone, and touched them, had sex and just intimacy all together. 

What happened with Frank was the first of something and he felt deserving of some congratulations, because he had dared to open up his space —and thighs?— to somebody else. He felt proud of himself. And Frank had been amazing.

“Thanks! It was awesome.”

“Are you getting married?”, Mikey asked. Deadpan.

“Not yet.”

“Yet? Seriously? Are you guys dating?”

“I’m not sure”, Gerard said, suddenly over conscious about not having any clothes on. He should be at least partially clothed when talking to his brother… Right? “Wait, I can’t find my underwear.”

“Of course you’re naked. Gross. Ray, you talk to him.”

“I’m driving? Mikey, I’m driving!”

“Found them!”, he made a victorious announcement, getting his briefs on one leg at a time. They were a bit moist, but he didn’t care. “He told me to come to his show tomorrow.”

“Second date, cool”, Mikey was again on the phone.

“I don’t think it’s a date… I don’t know, but you should come with me. Ray too.”

“I heard my name! I’m not into furry, tell him!”

“He says Frank has a show tomorrow and we’re invited. No furries”, he assured him, speaking then to Gerard. “No furries, right?”

“Couldn’t say for sure. They look like everybody else if they’re not in their fuirsuit, and they shouldn’t be judged, you know?”

“No furries”, Mikey repeated. “Okay, Ray’s in. We’ll go. Can’t believe someone’s getting you out of the house already. Must have a magical dick.”

“He does!”

“Don’t wanna hear about it.”

“Then don’t bring it up!”

“I’m hangin’ up now. Say goodbye to Ray.”

“Goodbye, FurRay!”

“Sleep tight, Gee!”

“Bye”, he heard Mikey and then Ray in the background: “Did he say Ray or--”, he hung up and placed his phone on his chest, staring at the ceiling once again, a big and excited smile on his face. Telling them about what happened with Frank made it feel more real. Everything seemed like a fantasy he had made up, it was a bit scary to not have any more proof.

Well, the used condom was still in his trash can if… Nope, nope, nope, time to sleep.

***

The next day went by between drawing, sleeping and obsessing over Frank’s stories on Instagram. He couldn’t stop after turning the notifications on and didn’t even bother to wait a decent amount of time to watch them so he wouldn’t come across as a stalker. He had already told Frank that wasn’t his intention, Frank knew and said it was okay to follow him, obviously implying it was okay to be the first one to —respectfully— see his content. And, well, send him a few emojis, but just one per story, he hadn’t yet unleashed his true form. He knew how to keep it cool.

Besides, Frank had been uploading fun stuff from early in the morning: a song about grinding coffee beans at work, a video where his dog licked his face, a Green Day song with the caption _“i ain’t no dog without a bone”_ and more about that night’s show. He seemed excited and now that Gerard was done with his work for the day, he began getting excited too. He was going to see Frank playing live! And he had PERMISSION to be there. He had been invited by Frank himself, no risk of getting a restraining order! 

“Can’t wait to see you play!”, he texted him in the spur of the moment, unable to stop smiling at his phone like an idiot.

“👍🏻🔥”, Frank answered. It was… vaguely positive, right?

100% positive! Oh, that feeling in his stomach while getting a message from his crush was something Gerard had never experienced before, mainly because this was his first crush. Waiting around for assholes from Grindr to reply meant forgetting about it for days, nothing like it was happening now. Knowing he didn’t have to wonder anymore when he would see Frank again, having him on reach through his phone, was amazing.

Everything about Frank was amazing. The good and the bad, because he couldn’t ignore that sometimes Frank got weird and distant for no apparent reason, but that was still a feeling he was willing to go through. He just wished he knew why it happened and what to do about it. 

Anyway, no use in chewing his own head! The only thing he was sure about was that he wanted all of Frank’s attention on himself, so he had to get ready for it. He knew his new look had worked, it wasn’t a bad guess to take the same approach. His gaze went through the sketches he made earlier and fixated on one of his characters’ designs; it was exactly how he wanted to look. There was no hesitation in his hands when he stood on the bathroom floor and grabbed his electric shaver, cutting down the hair on both sides of his head. He also smudged black eyeliner around his eyes before going back to his room. 

The next victim was a gray t-shirt that had certainly seen better days. He ripped it open on the sides and put it on, along with the tightest black jeans he owned and the buckles from a pair of boots he had, which he put around his calves. Why? No idea, he had drawn it on his character and it looked good. Maybe reminiscent of BDSM. Whatever, it worked. He took a black leather belt and a bat necklace before checking himself out in the mirror.

It was a good effort. His heart was beating fast, he could feel it in his chest when he snapped a selfie and uploaded it, unable to stop refreshing Instagram until he got a notification. Frank had left a comment: “🔥🖤🔥”. Gerard’s face lit up.

“Gee, you should probably… oh, you’re ready?”, Mikey had entered the room and saw him standing in front of his closet’s mirror. “This guy’s got you going out AND being punctual?”

“Told you he has a magical dick.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Let’s get going, Ray’s like 10 minutes away.”

***

Walking into that club felt more like Gerard had pictured those places before. The few times he had seen Ray playing it had been in club’s like that one, but he would have to admit he hadn’t stepped foot in them for almost a year. Ray didn’t take it personal, luckily, and now that they were in touch again he hadn’t held it up against him, no hard feelings at all. He was a nice guy. And being able to share what seemed like a new stage in Gerard’s life with Ray and Mikey was also nice, because they were happy for him. Well, they wouldn’t lay off the jokes any time soon, but Gerard could trust them to have his back.

The club was rather small, it smelled awful, was loud as fuck and had no signs of air conditioning. Gerard promised himself he would keep his leather jacket on no matter what, because his aesthetics were more important than his comfort, so he was sweating two minutes into the evening and had to push his wet hair out of his face.

“You think Frank is here already?”, he asked, looking around.

“He’s probably doing soundcheck”, Ray said.

The three of them got a table and asked for food and drinks. Gerard had a coke he barely even looked at, gazing nervously around while his leg bumped anxiously under the table. It was driving Mikey insane. However, as soon as he saw Frank, Gerard stopped it and smiled sincerely in his direction, hoping to catch his attention.

Frank got sight of them, surely because of Gerard’s bright red hair, and waved from afar. He was with his bandmates, holding their equipment and setting it up. Gerard watched the people he didn’t know, weirdly wondering if Frank would have slept with any of them. Being in the same band, they must spend a lot of time together, right? In different situations that could lead to at least giving each other a desperate hand job at a gas station or… um… his imagination was running wild. He didn’t even realize he was staring at the drummer, but tilted his head to get a better look of his tattoos, a cross and a virgin... Was that something religious?

He went back to look at Frank and smiled. Frank winked. Gerard bit his lip.

“We should get closer when it starts”, Mikey said.

“Are you going for the pit, Mikeyway?”

“I could throw some punches.”

“I want to get closer”, Gerard muttered without looking at them.

“Closer like… in Frank’s pants?”, Ray laughed immediately at his own joke.

“Yeah, Ray, right in his motherfuckin’ pants”, Gerard enunciated each word as if he was in a porno.

“You get so gross, so quick”, Mikey complained.

“It’ll be gross and quick, yes.”

“We don’t want details, but we still support you, Gee.”

“Oh, I’ll be supporting Frank, right in his… Yeah, no, I got nothing. But I’m fuckin’ him after the show.”

“It’s good to be confident”, Ray smiled. 

There was still time left for them to start playing and Gerard witnessed how the place began to get crowded with people, which made him happy for Frank. His eyes sparkled so much when he talked about music in his videos and he remembered the big smile on his face when he extended the invitation for tonight. It was important to him and now he wished he could’ve asked more about it. He would do it when he got the chance again.

It was good to be there, he knew it was, but he was now getting restless. Too much heat, too much people, too much noise. Breathing was getting harder to do by the minute, the place was too small, maybe filled with termites and the structure would give out at any second. Something bad was going to happen. And was any of that approved by the fire apartment? He didn’t believe that was an appropriate amount of people and he started looking for the emergency exits. His heart was beating too fast, not in a nice way. He had to get out of there, go back home, back to his basement, to his comics, to lay on his bed...

“Gee, c’mon. Let’s move closer”, Mikey placed a hand on his arm and brought him back to reality. Frank’s band was taking position. They looked like a real band. Not that they didn’t before, but now they had a professional aura to them. It wasn’t about the size of the club they were playing in, but about how seriously they did it.

“Hey everyone!”, Frank greeted. “Thanks for coming out. I’m Frank and these are my friends”, he pointed to the people behind him. “Now please enjoy the fuckin’ show, motherfuckers!”

They managed to blend in with the group of people, everyone screaming already just from the presentation and as soon as the first song started, Gerard realized people knew the lyrics. That was cool. But he was here to see a specific someone and he better do it. He focused on the stage, seeing Frank. Frank singing. Frank screaming into the microphone. Frank spinning his guitar in the air. Frank climbing up the drum set. Frank throwing himself on the ground without missing a single beat. Frank, Frank, Frank.

He didn’t mind being surrounded by people anymore, didn’t care about the elbows and knees, about being moved around or danced too close to; he was standing there, mesmerized, his heart beating so loud he didn’t know what to do. Each of Frank’s movements was hypnotizing, so perfect. He didn’t even try to look at someone else in his band, focusing only on him, on how his fingers traveled on the guitar, how his hair flipped when he shook his head and how his t-shirt was sticking to his back because of the sweat. Frank played with all of his body, there wasn’t a single part of him not feeling the music. It was spectacular. He had never felt such admiration for another human being. Not like that. 

Because he was also horny as fuck. He didn’t mean to undermine Frank’s talent, the music was really good, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what he wanted to do to him when he got the chance. He needed to intercept him before he could change out of those clothes, and before he got a towel on him, because he wanted to dry him off with his tongue. Well, if Frank was cool with that, consent first.

“FUCK ME, FRANK!”, he heard and had to look to his left to make sure a woman had said it and not him out loud.

“FUCK ME TOO!”, he took advantage of the moment. The girl looked at him and they shared a smile in acknowledgement of good taste. He was already meeting people! Magical dick, seriously.

They weren’t the only ones yelling raunchy stuff, not by far. It seemed Frank had his own fan base there, a group of people totally willing to give him shelter inside their pants and Gerard felt pretty lucky of having him on his Star Wars comforter just the night before. There was clearly a lot of competition, which wasn’t a surprise. Frank was amazing, he obviously could get anyone he wanted and Gerard could accept the fact with minimal discomfort. Just barely a knot in his stomach. He could still smile and pretend.

Finding Mikey was a lost cause, but Ray’s hair was his lighthouse and he saw it getting close to the stage, so he walked towards it, rubbing on other people’s sweat while passing through the crowd. Somebody tried to grab his waist, which was weird, and Gerard made a twirl to avoid it as if it was a dance step. Then he was face to face with his brother.

“They’re amazing!”, he said. Gerard nodded lively.

“They are!”

“And people are checking you out!”

“What?”, Gerard got closer so Mikey could speak into his ear, because he was sure he had misheard him.

“They’re checking you out!”, he repeated, punching him on the shoulder, assuming he was fishing for compliments. Gerard furrowed his eyebrows and looked over his shoulder. Maybe it was that person from before. Well, it didn’t matter, his gaze was back on the stage. He wouldn’t miss anymore of Frank’s show.

***

The sensation of the show was still running through his body while they waited for the band to come out. Mikey and Ray were discussing their favorite songs and something that happened to them in the pit, but Gerard wasn’t paying attention, biting his nail, just staring at the door. They weren’t the only ones there, more people were waiting in the back door area hoping for a chance to greet the band. He suddenly didn’t feel that special being invited by Frank, they were all probably invited by him too. Why did he think it could mean something? He should just go back home, lock himself up in his basement and never get out again.

“Hey guys!”, Frank’s voice surprised him. He had been staring at the ground during his freak out and missed the moment Frank walked towards them, shaking Mikey’s and Ray’s hands. “Thanks for coming, so cool you could make it!”

“Amazing show, Frank!”, Ray congratulated him. Mikey did the same.

When their eyes met, Gerard smiled at him. “It was great”, Frank smiled back and his eyes were sparkling so much, surely proud of himself. And he should be.

The moment was cut short when other people got closer to tap on his shoulder. Some hugged him, others asked for selfies and autographs. Frank had a good disposition, genuinely happy to be talking to them, asking if they had enjoyed the music and listening to their opinions. Gerard couldn’t picture himself getting that kind of feedback on what he did, he could barely stand his colleagues when they had ‘constructive criticism’ and ‘not really a question, but a comment.’

“I wanna check the next band”, Mikey suddenly said. “Let’s go back inside.”

Gerard rubbed the back of his neck and looked in Frank’s direction. “I’ll… catch you guys later.”

“Oh”, Mikey nodded, understanding. “Sure, okay.”

“Good luck, Gee”, Ray patted his shoulder. Despite all the jokes Gerard had made in the last couple of hours, he certainly felt he would need luck right now, so he gave his friend a shy smile to thank him.

He folded his arms and leaned on the wall behind him, waiting. Luckily he remembered there was something else to do to pass the time instead of biting his nails some more and he lit a cigarette, which did nothing for his nervousness, but made him look cool. It was important to look cool. Was he cool enough? Surely he was still drenched in sweat, just as Frank, who looked IMPOSSIBLY COOL. AND HOT. FUCK.

It didn’t take that long for people to scatter once they got what they wanted. The equipment was already in the van and Frank’s band went back to the club. Frank stayed back and approached Gerard, making a gesture that clearly said ‘where’s mine?’, so Gerard gave him his own smoke. “It’s my last one.”

“So you’re done flirting with me.”

“Until I get a new packet”, he replied, smiling. Frank brought the cigarette to his lips and Gerard wondered why he wasn’t laughing as he usually did. “Are you tired?”, he dared to ask.

“A bit”, Frank said. He didn’t sound tired though. “It’s like I’m fuckin’ exhausted, but still buzzin’, you know? It’s weird, and awesome.”

Gerard examined his features. He sounded like he was in a good mood talking about his show, and also while speaking to other people, but he felt a wall between them. He couldn’t find the usual warmth Frank had in his eyes and smile. And he didn’t understand why, so he wanted to ask. 

Frank spoke first.

“My drummer wants to hang out with you”, he said, blowing out smoke nowhere near Gerard’s face. “He’s the guy with the tattoos you were checking out.”

“I wasn’t--”

“Don’t play dumb”, Frank pressed on, elbowing him, laughing in a way Gerard hadn’t heard before. “It’s cool. He’s not an asshole, so… Wanna meet him?”

“Sure.”

The word escaped his lips before he thought about it, because he couldn’t picture himself saying no to Frank. He was being nice to him, caring enough to introduce him to someone who wasn’t a jerk, probably assuming he could be attracted to him for his tattoos and all of that was pretty considerate. And maybe an indirect way of telling him he didn’t want his company tonight, letting him know he needed his space. That stuff between them wasn’t serious and Gerard agreed, because he wasn’t a serious stuff type of person. Well, he hadn’t been an anything type of person until not long ago, but he definitely didn’t need romance or stability.

Frank nodded and finished his smoke, signaling for him to follow back to the bar, which all of a sudden felt even more suffocating than before and Gerard gave up, taking off his jacket and carrying it on his shoulder. He at least still looked cool. Did it matter now? No idea.

“Here he is!”, Frank announced, patting his drummer’s back. He probably wanted to reach his shoulders, but couldn’t. “This is Gerard”, he pointed. “This is Tim.”

“Hey”, the guy said and Gerard smiled, awkward. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Sure”, he found himself saying again. It was his new catchphrase. The story of a man who could only say ‘sure’ while being unsure as fuck. He gave a quick glance to Frank and shrugged. “Great show”, he offered and then turned his back on him, getting closer to the drummer.

They left the bar together, Tim putting an arm around Gerard’s shoulder without getting any objections. Frank watched them in silence, until Mikey’s voice got him out of his trance.

“Did you just set my brother up with someone else?”

“Yeah”, he said, still looking in front of him. “Don’t worry, Tim’s cool.”

“I thought you guys had something”, Ray chimed in. Frank looked his way and realized he had Ray to his left and Mikey to his right, as if they were Gerard’s bodyguards or something.

“We’re just friends.”

“Gee doesn’t have any friends”, Mikey said.

“You two are his friends.”

“I’m his brother. And Ray’s _my_ friend.”

“I’m friends with both of you.”

“Okay, he’s got _one_ friend”, Mikey accepted. “But he’s not the ‘friend’ type of guy.”

“He’s got many friends, guys”, Frank insisted, sick of that conversation.

“He doesn’t”, Mikey argued, deadpan as ever.

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as I do.”

“I’m his brother, I know everything.”

“You don’t. He’s got another side, okay? And he already left and we’re cool, so fuckin’ excuse me, I need a beer.”

Ray and Mikey exchanged some sort of look Frank chose to ignore, because he had already done his part with tremendous effort in pretending he didn’t care Gerard had left with somebody else so he could keep up with his fuckbuddy role. He thought he ought to be matchmaking for himself instead of others, but he just wasn’t in the mood.

  
  


***

When no one was at home to greet Gerard, he felt once again like the only loser in the Way family who couldn’t party beyond midnight. Mikey had hoarded all of the party-genes from their parents, obviously. He sighed and checked his phone, finding messages from their group chat asking if he was alright. He replied he was alive and back at home.

He went down to the basement and undressed before anything else. There was no doubt Gerard didn’t care about being clean, but he needed to get away from the club, all of those clothes were now contaminated and deserved their own pile on the floor. Gerard picked up his skeleton onesie and almost felt comfortable again after putting it on.

He threw himself on the bed, on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Hey there”, he said out loud.

Another sigh. He felt weird. He was also wondering if Tim was going to tell Frank about their night, complain to him for setting him up with a guy who couldn’t even kiss him, kept ranting about the comic inside the comic in Watchmen while he tried to get his clothes off and who, finally, apologized frantically and escaped before they could do anything at all.

Surely he would. Frank was going to hate him for standing his friend up. He didn’t want Frank to hate him.

Maybe if he explained it first? He didn’t have a good reason, but maybe honesty could help.

He got his phone out and looked for Frank’s chat. He was online. “Tim jr is a stupid name.”

“I’m Frank jr, wtf.”

Huh. Gerard didn’t know that. “It’s cool for a person, if your dad has the same name. It’s not cool for a dick. Just unoriginal. Wasted opportunity.”

“Are you texting me while you’re with Tim? Is his dick out right now?”

Gerard laughed. Well, he hoped that was a joke, Frank had to know he wasn’t _that_ kind of weirdo. “Like he just told me what he names his dick and I had to text you immediately?”, he typed, his fingers quick on the keyboard. “No, I’m at home. Sorry. I already apologized to him, but I wanted to tell you too. I bailed, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?”

“You went to the trouble to set me up. And he’s your friend.”

“You’re my friend too. And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Gerard felt a warmth in his chest when Frank called him his friend, along with a relaxed breath from his understanding words. Of course, he needed to make sure. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Just how much of an asshole do you think I am?”

“Like 10%, but I don’t know you that much.”

“Fuck you”, he replied, but quickly followed with: “So what happened? Are you okay?”

“Alright, 0%. You’re actually pretty sweet”, Gerard smiled to himself. “Nothing bad happened, besides me running away, and maybe making a disappointed face when he told me his dick’s name. He just wasn’t my type.”

“I thought he was.”

There was a pause. Gerard could have also sworn he was. Namely: musician, tattoos and dick, all checked out. In theory things should have gone great, but there was no chemistry. When their lips touched, Gerard got transported back to all of the times he had kissed people out of guilt because they were interested in him, being the last time the kiss Brad had asked for. And maybe from that moment on he realized he didn’t want to please people anymore. Coincidentally, Frank had appeared in his life, a guy he actually wanted to kiss. Very much. All of the time. Right now, hopefully.

“What’s your type then?”, he got another message and quickly replied.

“You.”

While waiting for an answer, he couldn’t look away from his phone. Gerard pondered on erasing the message. He had never done it before and had no idea if there was enough time, or if it will display a notification anyway. Things could be worse trying to explain why he had deleted something and wow, his hands were sweaty.

Silver lining: even waiting for —and freaking out over— Frank’s message was more interesting than listening to Tim.

“You have good taste, I’ll give you that.”

Gerard smiled from ear to ear. The tickling sensation in his stomach was almost unbearable. Even through the phone screen, he felt as if Frank was in front of him. He could imagine what kind of face he was making, hear his voice and see his eyes. Besides, his bed still smelled like him and if he focused enough, he could remember every little detail of how that first kiss in the back alley had felt. Frank had seemed as desperate as he was to get closer. He wanted to remind himself of the fact that Frank thought he was hot enough to get worked up, that at least last night’s attraction had been a mutual thing.

Perhaps there was a chance in taking things on that path again… They were alone in that chat, it wasn’t as nerve wracking as trying to flirt with people around him. He had to at least give it a shot.

Okay, he could do this. He took a deep breath and searched his brain for the discarded knowledge in online dating. It couldn’t be that difficult. He already knew Frank, they had fucked, it was only making the best of what already was there. And they were talking, which was the hardest to accomplish, he didn’t need an ice-breaker, just something to take the conversation into a more smutty place. 

“So what are you wearing?”, he pressed send. Perfect. Besides, he really wanted to know what he was wearing and hopefully the answer would be _‘Oh, actually nothing, just getting out of the shower.’_

“Are you trying to get nudes?”

Gerard’s face turned red and it wasn’t out of embarrassment. “Can I ask for them?”, he texted excitedly, as if Frank had just opened the door to paradise.

“You can try.”

Fuck. Frank being all mysterious again. He hadn’t read anything on how to get nudes, it seemed disrespectful, he had no idea how it was done, but he had been raised properly and he tried the only way he knew how: nicely and using proper manners. “May I have nudes, please?”

“No 🖤”

Staring at the answer, Gerard realized he had a pretty confused boner. Was that like a videogame where he had to keep trying until reaching the correct combination of words to get to the next stage? Or had he missed his only chance? Did the heart emoji make it better or worse?

“What are **you** wearing btw?”

Huh. Gerard furrowed his eyebrows and decided to go with Frank’s flow, because until then it had pretty much worked out in his favor. He lifted his phone and pointed it to himself, taking a picture from the neck down, getting his pijama and a couple of red strands of hair.

“Is that a fuckin’ onesie?”

“Yes. It’s comfy.” Should he have been sexier? Was that another wasted chance? “You want a nude?”, he asked. Better make sure. 

“Of course”, Frank didn’t take long to reply.

“For real? Like, dick included?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I just don’t want to send unsolicited dick pics.”

“Then I’m soliciting a dick pic. Let the record show I asked for it willingly.”

“As long as I have proof…”

Once again his heart was beating loudly and the idea of Frank having a picture of his junk on his phone was the hottest thing ever. He didn’t even bother to think —too much— about how many nudes his fans would send him. It didn’t matter as long as he could also be part of that gallery, and maybe get used as Frank’s fap material. To be honest, he owed the guy in that department.

He opened his onesie’s zipper and took a minute to think about taking a good photo. It had to be spectacular, he couldn’t go for basic or simple, so he had the idea to remove his underwear and that meant getting fully undressed and then putting the onesie back on.

He might have been taking too long, because he got another message.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to.”

“I do!”, he rushed to reply. He had never done that before, but he was sure about it and supposed seeing his boner was going to convince Frank about it how much he wanted it. He moved the fabric a bit, letting his pubic hair out and part of his cock on the shot, keeping most of it covered. After checking it and admiring his own work on the lighting and interesting contrasts, he sent it.

“Fuckin’ tease”, Frank said. Gerard had only one free hand to type, because the other was already between his legs.

“Are you sending one back?”

“Gee, I’m still at the fuckin’ club.”

“Restroom.”

“Can’t. Some assholes don’t knock.”

He had to laugh. He didn’t stop touching himself, but he laughed and wrote as best as he could, in all caps: “FUCKIN’ LOCK THE DOOR, YOU JERK.”

“Fine. But I want to see your face.”

His face? Huh. He hadn’t shown his face in the previous picture and didn’t realize until Frank asked for it. He didn’t think it would be arousing to him, but if it was what Frank wanted in exchange for a nude, then he was more than willing.

In the front camera he saw he still had eyeliner, so he looked good, but there was more he could do, so he let go of his dick for a moment and brought his fingers to his mouth, taking the picture while sucking on them. He quickly went back to jerking off, enjoying the wetness of his own spit, and also the idea of Frank seeing him. “I want a picture of your ass tattoos”, he wrote, a whole challenge spelling correctly.

“No fuckin’ way. You’re getting a dick pic and you better enjoy it.”

He thought briefly of asking again, but between understanding Frank didn’t want to have a picture going around of them and a dick pic being exactly what he wanted, he let go of the idea and kept stroking himself, expectant, doing his best not to shut his eyes so he could keep staring at the screen. It was so easy to imagine other things, especially what had happened the night before, and also in the restroom that one time. He was now sure none of the fans knew about the secret tattoos, and he did.

Being already so ridiculously close to coming, all it took was one glance at Frank’s picture —inside a stall, holding his own boner on his Ween/Okøm hand— and he spilled his load on his skin, calling Frank’s name in the solitude of his basement.

“You happy?”, Frank asked.

Gerard took a photo of the mess on his abdomen and sent it with a: “Very much, great service, 10/10, would recommend it to a friend.”

A few minutes later, Frank sent a picture of his own hand covered in cum. “Ditto.”

Gerard contemplated jerking off again.

***

Since Mikey had come back for the holidays, Gerard hadn’t really missed being an only child at home. However, when he was abruptly awakened by a dead weight at 5am, he decided that the first thing he would do once the technology was available, was going back in time and stopping their parents from conceiving a second child.

“You won’t die alone.”

Gerard had to blink. He also had to pat his brother’s back, who was hugging him as if he had forgotten they both needed to breathe. “Okay, I won’t travel back in time to stop your conception.”

“I won’t either.”

“Great. Move, you’re heavy”, he complained, shoving him to the empty side of his bed, without any help from Mikey. “Are you drunk?”

“Little bit. Ray got me coffee.”

“Ray’s a good man”, Gerard yawned, rubbing his hands on his face. “So why are you thinking about my death?”

“Because Frank set you up with someone else and it didn’t go well.”

“Oh, right… But we sexted later, it’s fine.”

“You’re too old to use that word.”

“We fucked digitally.”

“Gross.”

“We made artificial love.”

“Grosser.”

“We exchanged genit--”

“He said you were just friends.”

“We are”, he smiled, remembering the moment Frank had called him his friend, putting him on the same level as the people in his band. “We are friends now.”

“ _Just_ friends.”

“Friends, yeah.”

“ _JUST_ friends.”

“Just friends”, Gerard repeated. Mikey nodded. “Like… friends and nothing else?”

“Exactly.”

“Huh.”

He stayed for a moment with that thought in his head, going from _"you're my friend too"_ to the _"we are just friends"_ that Mikey told him. It was merely one more word, but it changed the meaning of everything, somehow put a brake on the whole thing. He didn't like the feeling it brought, especially when he had gone to sleep so satisfied that he had been able to turn things around without being too aggressive or pushy. "What do you think ...", he started to ask, looking to his side to find Mikey already asleep.

He pursed his lips and grabbed his phone. It was impossible for him to go back to sleep after getting that train of thought, the doubt would only haunt him. Maybe that was that got Frank upset sometimes, there was something there he wasn’t getting yet.

He needed a new perspective.

_“I (M, 26) have no idea what I’m doing with this guy (M, 23) I met.”_

Yeah, that was pretty much the gist of it. With the headline out of the way, it was his moment to rant away and spill his guts to a bunch of strangers, because apparently that was what he did now: getting physically, emotionally and metaphorically naked in front of whoever. The relationships subReddit was basically an emotional glory-hole.

_“So I met this guy -fuckin’ gorgeous btw- a few weeks ago and we hit it off right away. We’re into the same shit, music and comics, and we make each other laugh and that’s hard to find, right? But sometimes he gets distant, I don’t know why. He says we’re just friends, but we have slept together 1.5 times. What’s going on?”_

He didn’t bother to re read what he wrote because it was still 5 in the morning and he had been over conscious about not sharing too many details. Of course one of the first comments was: _“How is 1.5 possible?”_ . Gerard answered: _“Sexting.”_

_“Seems like he just wants a fuckbuddy. You should talk to him if you want something more serious. It could get ugly if you don’t.”_

Gerard didn’t want anything serious. The possibility didn’t even cross his mind. What? Like… Frank being his boyfriend? Absurd. What were they going to do? Hold hands while walking? Going to the movies to make out instead of watching the film? Spend nights together? Text how much they missed each other and good luck at work? Take selfies and tag them with their anniversaries? Meet their parents? Share their frustrations, emotional baggage and dreams in a healthy manner? Be genuinely happy for each other’s achievements? Walk together through that long and crude path called life so they wouldn’t ever feel alone again?

Pff… He didn’t want any of that.

Nope, not at all. Not even one tiny bit.

_“OP needs to take a chill pill.”_

_“I agree. OP, leave the guy alone for a few days. You may be smothering him.”_

Gerard swallowed feeling something in his throat, maybe a metaphorical chill pill. That’s what he had been doing wrong, it was so obvious! He had pushed Frank into thinking he wanted something more than friendship and occasional fucking. How could he had been so stupid? He had just been saying whatever came to mind without stopping to think about how Frank would interpret it, of course he felt overwhelmed. If it had been the other way around, Gerard was sure he would’ve ran away already.

He just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix it. He definitely should leave Frank alone for a few days. Actually, he better let Frank come to him. He could do it. He was used to being alone, all he needed was in that basement and there was no reason to go out. 

He turned around on his bed and saw Mikey sleeping. He looked so peaceful. Gerard appreciated how much he worried about him.

But he was also an asshole who had woken him up at 5am, so he hit him with a pillow before trying to go back to sleep.

***

Friday arrived once more and Gerard was in a terrible mood. He was behind on his workload and that almost never happened to him. Every time he tried to draw something, his bad mood took over. He was now unable to draw happy people, he kept adding blood, weapons, fire, deformations, putrefaction… He hadn’t been that distracted since his angry teenage years.

And when he got an email from the glory-hole place with a discount code —surely so he wouldn’t break his streak— he thought it was time for a visit. It would have been better to have the confidence to ask Frank to take the edge off for him, but he hadn’t heard from the guy. He kept uploading stories, continuing his routine and life as usual, which only confirmed he didn’t need Gerard in it. 

He wanted to believe he didn’t need Frank’s pity fucks either. He could pay for his own pity fucks from strangers, thank you very much.

He texted Claire directly, asking if she could give a message to the usual guy, since he hadn’t made a reservation this week.

She replied she would do it.

***

He got there too early out of pure anxiety and stayed outside, smoking and looking across the street to the coffee shop, hoping to see Frank walking by, which unfortunately didn’t happen. He was now sad about not being able to talk to him all week, but it just wasn’t meant to be. Or whatever they said in romantic stories with unhappy endings.

There were a lot of regrets in realizing this was in fact the end, but there was one thing he could solve, so he took out his phone and wrote a message: _“Hey, hope you’re doing well!”,_ manners first. _“I just wanted to tell you that I loved your show. You were truly amazing. It’s very inspiring seeing you play, I can tell your whole heart is in it. I’m sure you’ll make it far.”_

Hearts? Cats? Okay, one heart. That’s it. 

It was time to go inside. Gerard had to be his own hype man, reminding himself that Mystery Lover had come along before Frank and managed to improve his mood every single time. It’d be the solution to all of his problems. Or at least would give him a good orgasm and get his brain to stop being so idiotic, was that more realistic? Anyway. There was no point in being sad about Frank. He just needed to get fucked. Once a week, just like the doctor recommended.

Thinking he could really use a blow job today, he asked to repeat the missionary position from last time and before Claire could take the tablet away, he took it and wrote: _“No needles.”_

“We don’t…”, she tried to say, but then shook her head. “Okay, Mr. Way.”

Gerard nodded, satisfied. He forced himself to not think about Frank’s no-no list and just enjoy the fact that he already understood he could refuse certain things, even if they were unlikely to happen.

He really hoped for this encounter to cheer him up. Certainly the place had lost its initial charm. Walking inside the bathroom and checking the products wasn’t as exciting as before and neither was getting in an argument with the pink razor, or half showering because he was disgusting, but kind of decent too. Laying on his back on the table and pressing the button to indicate he was ready didn’t manage to give him that flutter in his stomach, and neither did the expectation of knowing he was going to be touched soon. He wasn’t even semi-hard yet.

And the ceiling was back, again, impossibly white. Insufferable. He hated it. He wanted to throw black and red paint in it. He wanted to paint a fuckin’ mural about how much the world sucked and how nobody was going to be there with you when you died, because your little brother actually had a social life and a good chance of getting married.

The feel of hands on his body startled him. He had been too deep in thought. He took a deep breath and placed his hands on his stomach, willing to enjoy it. Mystery Lover was going to get him out of his misery.

The guy started as he usually did, caressing his thighs. Gerard tried to close his eyes and Frank’s face came up in his imagination.

He opened his eyes and saw the white ceiling. Fuckin’ white ceiling.

Shut his eyes again. Frank. Open them up. White.

He felt hands on the inside of his thighs, spreading his legs and remembered Frank’s tattoos. Halloween. Bookwørm. His fingers were tracing his skin. He heard his voice, his stupid high-pitched laugh, how surprisingly deep his voice got when he got excited. He thought about how skilled his mouth was, whether it was kissing or sucking or rimming. His lips, his tongue, his hair sticking to his face… Frank agreeing to anything Gerard wanted after mocking him. Frank stealing his cigarettes.

The guy’s lips grazed his crotch and Gerard saw Frank kissing him inside his head.

He bit his lips and felt a knot in his throat. His vision was getting blurry. He blinked a few times. His face was now wet.

He wanted to be with Frank. If it wasn’t Frank, then it was not worth it. It didn’t feel good anymore, he wasn’t there. Gerard didn’t want to be there. It wasn’t fun if he couldn’t joke around with Frank. It wasn’t comfortable. He needed to leave, to get out, right now.

He reached out and pressed the blue button Claire had pointed to so many times. This was a panic-worthy moment.

  
  
  
  
  


*noice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is near.


	7. Wow! That's loud

Frank turned the flyer around, which was blank on the other side. There wasn’t any more information and he felt it was needed, because it only contained pictures of their infrastructure, contact numbers, website and a single claim: “100% anonymous.” Surely their tactic was to expect clients to make the connection inside their own heads instead of explaining directly what it was. So, if your head was filthy enough to understand what they meant, well, that was on you, not them. 

“This is a glory-hole, right?” He said, unable to keep the thought to himself.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Molly answered and chuckled, holding her own copy of the flyer they had received at the café.

“And it’s like right across the street,” Frank laughed too, pointing loudly with his hands towards where he thought the new establishment was. “how does that make you feel? We’re here serving coffee and people are over there serving di--”

“Stop it!” Molly elbowed him. A client had entered and she got her customer service face on. “Good morning! The usual?”

Trying to hide a mischievous smile, Frank turned around to get the coffee order done. Waking up, he hadn’t expected much from today and turns out life had just given him a never-ending source of jokes for Molly. Seriously, talking about glory-holes at 9am was a great way to start any day.

Well, it was actually a do-over of his real beginning of the day. First thing he saw when he took his phone was a memory on Instagram from a year ago, a photo of him and his ex happy at Disneyland. Way to rub it in, Instagram. Really rad. Just when he was starting to feel better and heal the wound being dumped four months ago left. Why? Because he was TOO MUCH. Apparently wanting a steady relationship and some sort of security about the future was _too much_ to ask after 9 months of dating. Oh, and well, also getting your girlfriend’s name tattooed on your chest as a surprise was “disturbing and taking it way too far.” Weird way to spell: ROMANTIC AF. 

Nothing a good cover up couldn’t solve. Sure, he had to eat with a knife and a fork the big fat “I TOLD YOU SO” the tattoo artist gave him, but that was the blessing and curse of being friends with the woman, and even so, he didn’t regret it. No matter what happened in the end, Frank would never regret putting his whole heart in something he believed in and trying to make it work in every way he could. Half-assing things was for the weak. He would always full-ass EVERYTHING.

Which could also explain why the break-up still hurt. Four months after it wasn’t so much about missing the person, but about wondering what went wrong and questioning his way of doing things. He wouldn’t change who he was for anyone, but… maybe his romantic approach wasn’t the best. He needed to learn to read people better; a lesson from this failure.

Or perhaps he needed a fuckin’ miracle to find someone as hopelessly romantic as him.

“Sabrina! Iced coffee!”, he called, placing the plastic cup on the counter.

He would’ve loved to keep on pestering Molly about her thoughts on their new neighbors, but 9am on a Friday was one of their busiest moments, so from then on he enjoyed turning the thoughts off in his brain and focusing on working. He loved being too busy to even check the time, that was a good day for him; simply using all of his energy to fulfill tasks.

Honestly, by the time his shift had ended, Frank was in a way better mood. It was 17:30 and he didn’t even resent Molly and him staying later than their check-out time because they had too many customers and one of their co-workers called in sick. He was waiting for her to change so they could walk together to the station, smoking while watching people walk by.

Across the street, he saw someone wearing a cool denim jacket. It had a couple of ghosts painted on the back, obviously DIY. It gave him the idea to do the same with his. He wasn’t a great artistic talent, but he was sure he could accomplish something rad, maybe just straight up copy that guy’s design, even though he couldn’t get a better look when the guy disappeared behind a door.

Oh. It was _that_ place.

Frank chuckled. Fuckin’ glory-hole.

“What’s so funny?”, Molly asked behind him.

“Glory-holes.”

“Is it that place?”, she pointed at it with her chin.

“I think so. Why? You interested?”

“No. No way.”

He was just joking, but the way Molly answered and how she averted her gaze gave him the feeling she was really interested in it and Frank was nothing but a good friend. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“What? Now?”

“No time like the present!”, he declared, barely looking at both sides before crossing in the middle of the street, dragging Molly with him. “You have to fulfill your dreams or you’ll regret it later!”

“Dream? I’m not even sure…”

“We’ll just take a look around and ask how it works, relax.”

Curiosity must have been killing her, because she followed Frank after he opened the door without a single trace of shame about what they were doing. “Hi, how can I help you?”, a receptionist greeted them.

“Hi! I’m Frank, and this is Molly”, he introduced both of them using their real names, which earned him a punch in the arm from the blond. “We got these flyers today and wanted to know more about this… service.”

“Great, I can explain everything. Do you have any specific questions?”

“Well… Claire?”, he read her name tag, she nodded. “Is this a glory-hole?”

Molly punched his arm again.

“It’s a glory-hole like experience”, she answered in what was obviously scripted for a surely frequent question. “We provide rooms connected to each other and match clients who are looking for a similar experience. All you have to do is make an appointment and we’ll set you up with a partner. Everything is anonymous, our client’s privacy is very important to us.”

“So there’s no prostitution, right?”

“No, not at all.”

“Interesting”, Frank commented and he really thought it was better than he had expected. He looked over his shoulder and found Molly contemplative as well. “And can you request--”

His question was interrupted by another receptionist tapping Claire’s shoulder. “Um, Claire?”

“Excuse me for a second”, she asked, turning around to her co-worker. “What is it?”

“The client coming in at 18:00 has just cancelled.”

Claire checked the time in her computer and her face showed that was a big deal. “He was the only male top this afternoon”, she said, scrolling on her screen.

“I know, I checked too… The bottoming client is already preparing.”

Frank couldn’t tell if it was his extreme need of fixing everything around him or just the thirst after realizing he hadn’t had sex since being dumped, but still found himself saying: “I can do it”, ignoring what his own co-worker could think about him doing this for real.

“Sorry, no, we can’t ask you to do that”, Claire said, even though some relief went through the other receptionist’s facial expression.

“You only need a man to top, right?”

“Yes, but…”

“I don’t mind, I wanted to try it anyway”, he replied. “How much is it?”

“Well, you’d be doing us a favor, so we wouldn’t charge you, sir.”

“I’m in then.”

Claire smiled, her co-worker did too, and Molly got a bit closer to the desk. “But really, how much is it?”

***

If he had to write a review about his experience so far, Frank would say it involved way more bureaucracy than he anticipated –which was pretty much none. He had to give his full name, go through pages and pages of Terms and Conditions, and sign his requirement. He pictured a full-on legal team behind the glory-hole business and felt like bursting out laughing. Everything about that place was hilarious, he couldn’t shake off the theory about it being an unnecessarily elaborated prank from a deeply bored millionaire. Or a new version of Jackass. ‘Hi, I’m Johnny Knoxville and I’m gettin’ this guy to fuck me in the ass’. Well, if he could choose, he would rather have Bam Margera.

Claire led him through an immaculate hallway until they reached a closed door. “Everything’s ready, Mr. Iero. You have an hour.”

“Wait, so… The other guy’s already…”, Claire nodded. “And I’m supposed to…”, he stopped while wondering how to word it. Fuck him? Stick it in him? Stuff him? None of those seemed appropriate to say out loud in front of her. “...penetrate him?”

“Yes, but you are allowed to do anything you want as well. Condoms are mandatory, there’s a wide variety inside the room, and other products.”

“Did you just say anything I want?” Frank had to repeat. “That can’t be right.”

“Clients usually set their rules, but this one didn’t have any…”, she explained and Frank realized how unusual it must have been as Claire looked a bit worried. “There’s a panic button in both rooms, in case any of you needs to stop for any reason.”

“Okay, that’s reassuring”, he said out loud. “Should I just…?”, he pointed at the door. It felt like that one time he had to take a sperm count test and the nurse tried to explain how to collect his sample. Uncomfortable and weirdly clinical. 

“Go ahead”, she said while unlocking the door. “Enjoy your experience, Mr. Iero.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and… there’s a…”, Claire made an odd pause. Honestly, it made Frank concerned to wonder what could be bothering her after everything she had already said. “Height difference. So, you may need one of the boxes stacked in the back...”

“Thank you so much, Claire. That’s very helpful of you”, Frank smiled ironically.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine”, he shook it off, gesturing with his hand to let it go. If he got seriously angry at every single person who pointed out how short he was, he would get in three times as many fist fights as he already did.

Frank walked into the room and of course the first thing to catch his attention was the actual presence of someone’s ass in there, which in his head was simply the funniest shit he had ever seen, but his dick took an quick interest in meeting that stranger intimately. Hopefully soon.

He was now alone in that room. Well, kind of alone? He knew there were no cameras and still looked around, convincing himself by not finding anything in the ceiling or walls. It was just white, absolutely white, not a single stain. He didn’t think the whole dental clinic mood suited a glory-hole. 

Anyway, being by himself he could now accept how appealing the concept was and also that he had an interest in trying it out even before the flyer came along. He had watched porn, how could he not want to try it at least once? He didn’t need to pretend it was only funny anymore.

The person behind that wall hadn’t set any limits, he was practically handing over his ass for him to do anything he wanted and that was a powerful thought. He didn’t want to think about what kind of freak did that, but still felt mad respect. Good for him. He wished for him to get everything he was looking for.

Frank didn’t know if the things he liked were particularly kinky. Sure, he wouldn't complain if someone wanted to dig their nails on his back a bit roughly or yank his hair to make him focus on their genitals with his mouth. Neither would he pretend spit didn’t turn him on like crazy just like other people giving him clear instructions on what they wanted –as explicitly and dirty as possible– did, but all of that was pretty vanilla, in his opinion. Maybe being in a glory-hole was the kinkiest thing he had ever done, even though the truly kinky aspect about it was being on the other side. He wasn’t the one offering himself up to a stranger.

He approached the wall, taking a closer look at that great ass and how pale the skin was. Surely he was the kind of guy who bruised easily. Okay, he also enjoyed leaving marks on his partner, but that was vanilla as well. Who didn’t like that?

He decided to just go for it. They had an hour to get their money’s worth. Well, the stranger’s money’s worth. But Frank was nothing but a good person. Also a good friend. He was a good guy good all round, even when it meant giving someone else a good fuckin’. 

When he placed a hand on the guy’s hip, he felt him tense up and saw goosebumps on his skin. Shit, his hands were too cold. He quickly brought them to his lips and breathed on them, rubbing them together, getting them warmer. Was that the worst first impression? He quickly tried again to forget about it, and saw him getting relaxed. Yeah, Frank could get that right. Actually, he was going to give him the best dickin’ ever.

He moved his hand until he could squeeze the rounder part of his cheek. It was soft. Fuck, this was really doing it for him. He placed both hands on the stranger’s ass and gave himself the pleasure of exploring him, spreading him open, staring at the pretty pink color of his asshole and realizing he was wet, which meant he had already prepped and that was… hot. That person must’ve been horribly horny and that made him horny too. There, by himself, Frank could admit he needed to get laid. There was no other explanation to how hard he was inside his pants, which he opened to be more comfortable. They were getting too tight.

His gaze went over to the way too many lubricant options, which made him pick one only because of the skull pattern in the packaging, it looked rad. He coated his fingers because there was no way he was going to fuck someone without making sure they were really ready for it. Actually, he would’ve loved to just ask the guy how he was feeling, but part of the experience was not talking. He had seen the button with a microphone icon, but he figured it would be weird to hear an unknown guy’s voice. Frank would definitely freak out if the guy spoke to him right now.

His fingers went directly to touch the guy’s asshole, circling it and caressing for a moment. He tried with one finger first and found no resistance whatsoever, along with the presence of more lube inside. He still took his time opening him up and slowly adding more fingers until he was sure taking three of them wasn’t a problem. Even though he was trying not to be judgy, it was to be expected that a guy who visited a glory-hole would be at least a bit loose already. He immediately found his prostate and smiled proudly at himself. Frank was, in fact, pretty good at sex, just terrible at hook-ups. A blessing and a curse.

He took out his fingers, assuming the other guy must’ve been impatient already to get what he had paid for. Next item on the agenda was getting a condom on, because it was safe sex or no sex at all, he didn’t need it in the establishment’s rules to do it. So he looked over at the condoms portion of the room and found too many options: ultra thin, ribbed, plain, dotted, anatomic, flavored… There were some varieties he hadn’t heard about before, but he went for the traditional only out of the paradox of choice. 

He lowered his pants and briefs to his knees and then rolled the condom on his dick, applying more lube because in that department more was more, for real. 

Of course he got to the point where there was nothing left for him to do but curse Claire under his breath, because she had been right about him needing the help of a few extra centimeters to reach the guy’s hips in a comfortable position, so he went through the humiliation of moving one of the white boxes and standing in it to line himself up and graze between the guy’s asscheeks. Luckily for Frank, penetrating the warm and unexpectedly tight body made him forget everything around him. He had missed that feeling… And now he hoped he could last long enough, fearing he might finish way too soon. Perhaps he would need to keep fuckin’ him with one of the many dildos in that room.

He pushed inside of him as slowly and careful as he could, worrying about the stranger’s comfort and just enjoying the moment. It was so weird to not have a name for him, what could he call him?

Hot piece of ass.

He almost laughed at his own joke. It was a great nickname.

If only HPOA could give him some feedback… Was he enjoying himself? Could he be ready to go? Was there something in particular Frank could do for him? He couldn’t help but think about his partner’s pleasure. Yeah, his kink was having a willing, consenting and overall horny partner. That’s when he realized glory-holes weren’t his thing.

The only move he could think of to get a sense of HPOA’s state was to get a hand on the front and check how hard he was –if at all. He tried to go slowly, caressing his hips and groin so he wouldn’t be startled and had time to push a button if he didn’t want to be touched. He couldn’t have imagined he would find something as weird as that half-shaven pubic hair. The contrast between the long hairs and the shaven portion of it was too obvious. What the hell had he done? Chicken out last minute? Did he run out of time?

Frank’s laughter was so loud it echoed in the walls.

He shook his head and kept going between the guy’s legs until he reached a very flattering boner. The guy was hard as a rock, also leaking like crazy; he spread the pre-cum with his thumb and touched him in all the good places. He knew he was good at hand-jobs and as turned on as that guy was, Frank now thought he wouldn’t be the first one to come.

The stranger’s legs spread open, making it impossible for him to ignore the signals he was being given to continue as he also pushed his hips towards him. Frank didn’t make him beg; he grabbed his hip with one hand, declaring he was going to be leading the movement and just began thrusting into him in quick, hard motions. He kept the other hand on the guy’s cock, telling himself he would stop fuckin’ him if he went soft. He had no interest in having sex if the other person wasn’t fully on board.

However, not only was he on board, but he seemed to be asking for more, meeting each of his thrusts with his hips, practically begging for him to go deeper and Frank did. He was usually good at keeping himself somewhat calm, and now he couldn’t, he just let go and tried to satisfy the craving for some seriously hard pounding HPOA seemed to have. He had no idea how long it had been when he felt the cum on his hand and how he clenched around him. His thighs were trembling and the vibrations made Frank salivate anticipating his own orgasm. He was so on edge he knew it was going to be _really_ good.

That idea about stopping when the stranger went soft was now the furthest thing on his mind. He held the guy’s hips roughly, smearing his own semen on his skin, and kept going, harder, chasing his own orgasm. It was perfect, he was so close he couldn't think about anything else and when he finally reached his climax, it was just as spectacular as he pictured it. His mind went blank for a few seconds and his body felt immediately lighter. There was only peace in his world.

With a pretty dumb and satisfied smile on his face, he carefully pulled out and threw out the condom. He couldn’t believe how good it had been. He hoped the stranger had had a good time as well.

Seeing his ass still there, as white and immaculate as the damn walls in that room, he couldn’t help wanting to spank him, so he did. He gave him a single slap with his hand open and stared at the red mark it left, even though he didn’t put much force in it. Maybe that would teach him to set boundaries for next time, or maybe he was the kind of person who was into that shit. He had no way of knowing.

  
  


***

He had been leaning on that wall outside the building for a few minutes, just enjoying the fresh air, when he saw someone coming out and recognized the denim jacket he had seen before. His gaze went down immediately to check the guy’s lower half and thought that even hiding behind those baggy jeans, that could be the ass he had met. It was a good ass. He bit his lip to contain his laughter, not because it was particularly funny to assume he was HPOA, but because he felt so giddy after that mind-blowing orgasm he could spend hours laughing at a knock-knock joke.

The curiosity was going to kill him. He _had_ to talk to the guy.

He took a cigarette out and went for the cheapest trick in the book. “Hey, you got a light?”

The guy turned to him and without a word, placed a hand over his and leaned in to light the cigarette with his. His face was fuckin’ beautiful. It really took his breath away to watch his lips and his fuckin’ eyelashes. Who the fuck looked like that? 

Frank had to mentally slap himself out of it to inhale from his smoke and not let the guy’s effort go to waste. Their eyes met; the color on the stranger’s was so unusual and cool. He barely managed a smile to thank him, really doubting he was his partner. To be honest, he was begging internally for it to be true.

“Cool tattoos”, he said. Frank kept smiling, noticing he was looking at his neck. He loved having his attention. He loved having the guy flirting with him.

“Thanks, man”, he replied.

He had to ask if it was him in there. They were adults, hiring that service wasn’t something to be ashamed of, and being the only two guys standing outside made it way too obvious to try and keep that anonymity stuff. Surely the other guy was curious as well. It could be something to laugh about at their first date, or second, or third.

“And your face is amazing”, the guy went on, staring into his eyes; Frank kept on thinking his were beautiful.

“Just giving out free compliments, huh?”, he finally let that laugh he had been containing out, because it was a nice moment.

“Should I charge for them?”

Oh, fuck. That guy was smooth. That guy knew what he was doing. Frank was willing to pull down his pants fuckin’ anywhere –again– if he was going to keep flirting with him like that.

However, the illusion was shattered in no time. Another guy came out of the same place they did –Frank quickly discarded the possibility of him being his partner because of his darker skin. The hot guy next to him stared at the man up and down and smiled. The man winked at him.

Every single red light in Frank’s mind lit up. Nope, nope, nope. That guy was a player. He had to get away from him as soon as possible. It didn’t matter how ridiculously beautiful he was, Frank wasn’t going to let him ruin his life. Dump me and make me get a cover-up tattoo once, shame on me. Dump me and make me get a cover-up tattoo twice, lock me up and throw away the key ‘cause I’m fuckin’ insane.

“Thanks for the light”, he muttered before crossing the street.

Well, what else could he expect from a glory-hole? Never again.

***

The next time Frank met Gerard, he realized he had no power over choosing who would ruin his life and when. He was already mentally preparing by choosing a place for his tattoo where it wouldn’t be seen as much and considering a black out for when he had to cover it, because there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind things weren’t going to end up well. He wished knowing how badly it was going to go was enough for his brain to stop releasing those pleasant chemicals when he saw Gerard’s smile; it could also be defined as butterflies in his stomach, but he was trying to make it sound as aromantic as possible, at an attempt of saving himself the heartache.

It’s just that he couldn’t deal with Gerard and Frank knew exactly why. He wasn’t the first player he encountered and he was usually great at staying away from them, but Gerard was different. He wasn’t playing it cool at all, he let all of his emotions show up in his face. Why? It didn’t feel like a trick. He was awkward, blushed easily, looked dejected when Frank didn’t flirt back and seemed to let his mouth speak before thinking. It seemed as if he liked Frank for real, and made him believe there was something blossoming between them.

It had to be Frank’s savior complex, right? Or Frank was just stupid. He had to be stupid to believe that Gerard jumped from bed to bed… Well, glory-hole to glory-hole. Or dick to dick. Whatever. How could he believe only he was different to Gerard? Believing Gerard was serious about him was only wishful thinking.

It had to be a fantasy he had made up, he couldn’t be that dumb.

He rubbed his face in his hands. His survival instincts were shit. He felt like a mouse trying to hug a snake. A dinosaur running straight to the meteor asking for a kiss. A complete idiot crossing the street, walking directly with the intention of begging Claire for Gerard’s number.

“We can’t give out any information on our clients”, was the answer he got.

Claire’s co-worker was listening to the conversation and raised her head, giving an encouraging smile to Frank, which he took as a _you go, girl_. “I’ll go check on client #12, they must be almost done.”

Once they were alone, Claire turned to Frank. Her face seemed a bit more relaxed. “I really can’t.”

“Please? I’ll get you free coffee for a week.”

She shook her head. Frank thought he didn’t have anything to bargain with and he wasn’t the kind of asshole who reminded people of favors he had made for them. “However…”, Claire went on almost in a whisper. “I can set you up with him, if he makes another appointment.”

It wasn’t really what Frank had in mind, but it was something. Sure, the idea of having sex with Gerard again sounded great, but he would have wanted to take him out for a drink first and then get him back to his place, put on some music...

“And if you were to catch him outside afterwards and ask him for his number and he wanted to give it to you, well… I can’t really stop you.”

“Oh”, Frank smiled, catching her drift. “Right. Maybe I will.”

“But that’s all. We value our client’s privacy”, she remarked, going back to business. “And I like frappuccinos, by the way.”

“Noted.”

***

Texting his ex wasn’t his brightest idea. And he had come up with his fair share of terrible ideas in his life. Actually, just in the last year, he had: jumped into a pool from a second floor window, attempted to skate up a ladder, came up with choco-rum (a delicious mix of rum and chocolate milk, but the milk didn’t agree with him, nor did the rum) and tried to find a roommate on Craiglist, among many other stupid shit. But yes, texting his ex got first place in Stupid Ideas right away, because he immediately regretted it. At least he had been childishly hopeful of a good outcome in all the other situations, unlike this one. There was no winning in texting your ex.

He thought he had a good reason to do it, though. Because… He had unfinished business, so if he died, he would have to haunt a building. His ex represented something he still hadn’t been able to let go and believed was affecting the decisions he made until this day. He wanted to understand what he had done wrong, how to grow from it, what he needed to learn to be better next time. Up until now it seemed like he needed to enjoy casual sex and stop obsessing over people, but how could it be that simple? It felt weird for the answer to be just: chill the fuck out. Have more sex. Enjoy it. No consequences. Also try not to be a vengeful ghost.

“Would you ever use a glory-hole?”

“What? Did you just say glory-hole?”

His ex gave him a look that said she was two seconds away from calling the police. Truth be told, Frank felt some satisfaction from shocking her. “Yeah. Would you?”

“I… guess not? You could catch… I don’t know, STDs to say the least.”

“What if it’s a really nice place and condoms are mandatory?”

“Frank…”, she began. No Frankie, just Frank. “This was fun and all--”

“But”, he provided.

“But it was a one time thing, okay? I’m not--”

“Not interested in getting back together. Me neither”, he said and realized he meant it.

Either way, he sat up on the bed. After all was said and done –well, more done than said– and things had cooled down, they were both trying to cover themselves up as much as possible, using the sheets and bedspread. It was awkward as fuck. What a terrible idea, the worst of all, ready for the hall of fame of ‘please don’t do it again’. Seriously, the best he could think of doing now was letting her escape quickly from his place.

BUT: what about a second awful idea?

“Just tell me where I messed up. That’s all I need to know. I… don’t want to mess up again.”

“Are you dating someone? Did you just cheat?”

“No! What the fuck? I would never!”, he resented the accusation. “We’re not dating yet… I want to, but he’s not looking for anything serious.”

“Oh, Frankie.”

“Don’t ‘oh Frankie’ me. I’m okay, I’m taking it easy. I’m chillin’.”

“Oh, Frankie. You’re gonna get hurt.”

“I’m not! Are you going to tell me or just keep on being condescending as shit?”

“Close your eyes”, she said as she got up and looked for her clothes. Frank covered his eyes with his hand, even if it felt ridiculous. “Fine, well. I already told you, but you got too serious without asking me. I was cool with going with the flow, just taking one day at a time and you were… picking out our dogs’ names.”

“So I can’t have a dogs’ naming list? What if a stray follows you home and you have to keep him and need a name super fast?”

“Frank… You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t. I didn’t propose to you, didn’t ask you to move in or be Sweet Pea’s mother, so what was it?”

“You didn’t have to do any of that, it was constantly all over everything else you did. You wanted to have a partner for life, I didn’t.”

“So… I couldn’t have done anything differently?”

“No. And I don’t think this is about you changing. There are people out there who want the same as you, you just have to be straightforward about it. Talk it out. Break up if you’re not getting what you want. You should have broken up with me the minute I said I didn’t want to get married.”

Frank remembered the exact moment. They had been going out for three months. It was late at night and they were laying on the couch, watching Bridezillas when the subject came up. He recalled how his heart broke when she said she didn’t understand what the fuss was about marriage and how someone could choose to tie themselves up to another person for life. He also recalled saying nothing about it. How dumb.

“I thought I could change you”, he acknowledged. “That’s where I messed up.”

“Well, that and the tattoo. Nice cover up, by the way. I like the grenade.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m already dressed, so… I’ll get out of your hair. Good luck with the guy. And dump him if he hurts you!”

Frank nodded and lowered his hand, watching his ex getting out from his room and his life, hopefully. He didn’t want to go down that road again, and hadn’t missed being called ‘daddy’ while fuckin’ at all. Ugh, he hated that.

But he didn’t want to be the only one not sleeping around. Gerard did it. Gerard flirted with other people in front of him, he obviously didn’t want anything serious and only imagining himself asking if he would ever want to get married and settle down felt like putting a bullet to the head of whatever it was they had. He knew Gerard would make the same face he did for Brad and Frank could see himself miserably asking for one last kiss before they parted ways.

How the fuck had they not kissed yet? Their situation was so messed up...

He needed to realize and understand Gerard wasn’t the love of his life. And that didn’t mean ending things, just lowering his expectations. Sex was still good, he just had to focus on enjoying it. This would be the time Frank finally learnt to separate hook-ups from life partners. 

Yes, he could do it. Fuck yeah. Everything would be alright. As alright as what had just happened with his ex. Life had weird ways of teaching things, just as choco-rum taught him he was lactose intolerant. And rum intolerant.

  
  


***

Some ups and downs later, Frank was placing a new frappuccino in Claire’s hands, who took it with a smile on her face. She did that when her co-worker wasn’t around.

Frank had a good feeling about that day. The fact that it was Gerard who took initiative in asking for him predicted a positive change of pace. He even thought they could be ready for a next step, of course in a casual and chill light. He was there to have a good time and nothing else, definitely not reading too much into it.

Chill as a cucumber. Yup. Totally calm. Chiiiiiiiill. 

“Mr. Iero, this is…” Claire interrupted his important and serious thoughts. Frank gave her a questioning look. “Frank, I thought you were going to ask _him_ out?”

Wow. He couldn’t decide what was more surprising, Claire calling him by his name or just straight up calling him out for being a chicken. “I’m trying. I will, later, if it feels right. It’s just that I have this tendency of going too hard at things, you know? I’m always going big, I never want to go home, so I’m trying this new thing where I’m supposed to go with the flow and I’m not gonna lie, I--” Claire raised her plastic cup. Frank stopped his ranting and saw a phone number next to a heart in Sharpie. “No! No, Jesus, that wasn’t me!”, he laughed. “Molly made the drink.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I thought…”, she blushed, but didn’t say anything else, just cleared her throat. “Let me show you to your room, Mr. Iero.”

“Thank you, Claire”, he smiled, allowing her to keep the professionalism she was so proud of even if their exchange was equally awkward and hilarious. Way to go, Molly, that was smooth as fuck. Should he be getting love advice from her? 

Once again he was following Claire through the hallway. He felt more anxious than in his previous visits. The first time he knew nothing. By the second time, he suspected something. This third time he was sure of who it was behind that wall. He had seen him going in and out of that place and even though Claire never revealed his name, the times checked out.

This felt more personal. They had both asked for each other.

No, he wasn’t getting his hopes up, not at all! He was there to have sex through a wall and nothing else. Unless Gerard didn’t run away this time and maybe he had the chance to ask him out and he said yes and… why not? It could still be a casual thing with them chatting a bit and looking into each other’s eyes the next time they fucked, in the comfort of a bed, floor or against the door of a restroom. He wasn’t going to be picky, just being able to touch Gerard without a wall between them for once would be enough.

Entering the room and facing the new position brought the same reaction to Frank as watching Gerard walking down the street in tight clothing and bright red hair: all of the blood in his body rushed to his dick. He meant to say breathtaking. Because he couldn’t breathe with all of the blood in his dick. Well, he definitely felt butterflies in his stomach. And blood in his dick. Whatever, it was difficult to be romantic with such a hard on already.

He unbuttoned his pants while getting closer, because they were too tight now and well, he knew he wouldn’t need them in a few minutes. He was literally there to fuck and go. Even though it wasn’t his favorite thing ever, he still could see the appeal in that place. Maybe Gerard and him had a lot in common.

Seeing that weird shave again made him smile. He still wanted to know what the fuck happened, but he hadn’t found a good moment to ask: “What’s with the pube haircut? Is it a signature or a weird fetish?”

The skin in that place felt softer, he must have just shaved it again recently. No one asked him and his opinion on someone else’s body didn’t matter, but he liked how the hair felt and looked. His fingers went through it, caressing softly. It was a bit funny to know how the rug didn’t match the drapes anymore. And he hoped Gerard wouldn’t try to bleach it and dye it red as well, that’d itch like a motherfucker. Not that Frank had tried it before in another list of dumb ideas…

He quickly got distracted when Gerard’s cock began getting up. He had hardly done anything at all, but was already being greeted by it somehow. And it was… big. Sure, he had touched it before, but staring at it directly was kind of shocking, to say the least. Na, it was awesome. If he could, he would’ve congratulated him on having a nice cock. Great cock. Wonderful cock. You go, man.

Why would he choose to be on the bottom all the time? And why was his mouth watering? Well, he had the answer to one of those questions and it was because he hadn’t sucked dick in quite a while.

He kicked his sneakers off and dropped his pants before getting on the table. Part of him was incredibly happy of not needing that stupid box this time. Okay, all of him was happy about it.

He placed his hands on Gerard’s knees and spread his legs open so he could touch his thighs. He bit his lips just looking at his skin getting goosebumps. He fuckin’ loved his thighs. He wanted to feel them on his face and to be squeezed between them so hard he couldn’t hear anything around him. He didn’t stop running his hands until he reached his ass and grabbed it. Gerard’s cock was fully hard by now. 

Frank lowered himself and placed his lips on the shaven portion of his skin. He wondered if Gerard could anticipate what he was going to do, maybe he should make him wait as a revenge for… well, everything. The idea was quickly dismissed. He wanted to taste him right now and punishing himself didn’t make any sense.

He got his tongue out and licked from the base to the tip, where pre-cum was already gathering. Gerard was too responsive, as sensitive as if this was his first blow job. And that was a funny idea. He surely had received hundreds of them which made Frank think of this one as a challenge. He just _had_ to do it better than all of the people before him and get Gerard addicted to his mouth. There was no other way.

He was about to let him into his lips when he heard him yelling: “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK YOU FUCKIN’ FUCKER.”

The walls were sound-proof, as much as they could be with a hole in the middle, but Gerard was so fuckin’ loud Frank could at least hear his voice even if he couldn’t understand the words he was saying. With this new position though, there was more sound coming through and he got the message this time. It was a hot one.

He went on with his idea, letting him into his mouth and enjoying way too much how it felt when it got to his throat. How come he had gone a full year without that feeling? Well, he knew it was because he had been in a monogamous relationship and then too depressed to look for any willing participants, but WHY THE FUCK HAD HE STOPPED SUCKING DICKS, IT WAS THE BEST. He didn’t realize how much he was moaning around Gerard’s cock, as if he was the one getting blown, while Gerard’s hips thrusted into him. He loved being surprised by it and him trying to get in deeper, almost choking him. If only Gerard could yank his hair and get a bit rough… Okay, yeah, he had a few kinks that weren’t that vanilla, whatever.

“MARRY ME, MOTHERFUCKER, I LOVE YOUR MOUTH SO MUCH”, Gerard screamed this time and Frank wondered where he could go after making such a statement. Would he offer to buy him a house? Adding him on his will? Give him one of his kidneys?

He wasn’t as dumb to take seriously anything anyone said while getting blown. If people meant what they said, he would own at least ten engagement rings. Yeah, he was that good at giving head.

But he had to admit he was out of practice when his jaw started aching. Gerard was too big. He got it out of his mouth for a moment, but didn’t stop licking between his legs, being as painfully horny as he was. Staring at Gerard’s cock, he even considered bottoming this time. It was his first time wanting so much to just sit on a dick, something he had never done before, because it hadn’t come up. 

Well, he shouldn’t be doing that for the first time in a glory-hole. Besides, if everything went well he could have the opportunity to tell Gerard about it and do it in a more comfortable place.

Anyway, the point was he felt already too aroused and his cock wanted in the fun, so he reached for the lube and began prepping Gerard. He had barely started when he heard his voice on the speakers, loud and clear. Or not so clear… Could he have pressed the button by mistake again? Frank only heard moaning and a couple of fucks.

He assumed it was cool to reply and pressed the button on his side. “You okay?”, his voice came out a bit rough. Maybe he overdid it with the deep-throating.

“Mh-hm. You may go on”, he got as an answer, which was a bit weird, but Gerard was like that.

Frank saw him spreading his legs in such an inviting way all of his doubts were cleared. He was still satisfied with them exchanging a few words, meaning he could be now sure Gerard knew it was him and the idea not only warmed his heart, but his dick as well.

***  
  


Frank shut the door behind him and leaned into it, repeating what he had been telling himself since he got up the table: “NO, NO, NO, SHIT NO, FUCK NO, NO, NO, C’MON BUDDY, NO, NO WAY IN HELL, NO, etc.” He was a bit worried of how quickly his jealousy got the best of him when the universe decided to remind him Gerard was still seeing other people. And he didn’t mean to forget! It was on his mind all the time.

But it was hard to convince himself when Gerard looked at him as if he was the only one in the entire world. When he blushed so easily, when he caressed his fingers as if he was fuckin’ worshipping them, when he confessed he wouldn’t refuse anything Frank asked. 

It was so unfair. Frank tried to be as chill as he could and Gerard behaved as if he had never believed in love before but was now madly in love with him and just didn’t know what to do out of lack of experience. He was clearly going insane and making impossible stuff up.

Gerard was just a very interesting guy, unfairly interesting, hot as fuck, who enjoyed his freedom and did whatever he wanted, whenever he felt like it. Frank needed to learn to be more like Gee and stop looking for things he couldn’t give him.

He reached the sink and washed his face. It didn’t matter if Gerard got messages from other guys, at least they were having a good time. He had to focus on the _now._

Anyway, he needed fresh air. He left the restroom and looked for the waitress to pay the bill.

  
  


***

As it turns out, it was really easy to forget about other people when he had Gerard’s mouth on his and was being pressed against a wall in a dark alley. Who would have thought it could be so relaxing and therapeutic? 

The ridiculous conversation they had on the way to Gerard’s home helped too. They went from sex related stuff to a competition to make the other laugh as loud as possible, and even had time to talk about their lives. After all of the mystery Gerard Way had posed, he now realized he answered everything very honestly. He wasn’t direct only in his advances towards him, he seemed to be an open book about whatever Frank thought of asking.

And now they were at Gerard’s place. It was so cool of him to have his own space, because everywhere he looked he could get a sense of his personality. Yes, it was messy, didn’t smell like it had been deep cleaned in a very long time and was also a bit dark, but it was filled with things he could tell Gerard loved. It was like being invited to Gerard’s mind and he was so curious he could barely control it.

When he was given permission to look around, he did with no hesitation. At first it was funny to find all of those Robin figures and then it was exciting how he recognized almost everything in Gerard’s collection. He had already suspected their tastes were too similar, but now it felt borderline insane how much they overlapped. It only took a few minutes of looking for him to come up with amazing Christmas, birthday and anniversary presents. He was smiling like an idiot, taking mental notes until he realized he was doing it again.

An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach. He didn’t want to face it, but it was there, it had begun. 

Yup, he was falling for him. Fuck. 

Desperate for the voice in his head to shut up, he turned around and offered some help.

***

The first beer at the bar was as unsatisfactory as his brief conversation with Gerard after the show. The motherfucker kept playing dirty, showing up in that torn up t-shirt and new hairstyle, as if it wasn’t hard enough already to step aside for tonight. And Frank really needed to, because being on stage doing something he loved and searching the crowd for Gerard’s red hair had been… exciting at first and then straight up disappointing. Watching people’s heads getting turned when he walked by painted a much worse picture than he could have anticipated, just reminding him he wasn’t his boyfriend. It was his own fault, he shouldn’t have invited him, but he wanted to know what he thought of his band.

Of course all he got was a ‘great’, out of courtesy. And surely Gerard looked like he wanted to invite him to fuck in the restroom, so he had to step away. At the end of the day, that was all Gerard was looking for. He needed to keep it in mind.

However, he thought he had done well. Nothing said ‘hey, I’m super chill about this and totally down to fuck another time when I don’t feel like I’ll throw up my heart if we kiss’ —fuck, that’d make a rad song lyric— as setting him up with his drummer. And his overprotective side was satisfied knowing he had at least gone home with a good guy. Sometimes Gerard spoke like he had been with terrible people. Frank remembered that off-hand comment he had made about his first time… He didn’t want to picture how it was for him to describe it as ‘transactional and impersonal.’ And of-fuckin’-course Gerard made sure to not blame the guy. Someone needed to protect him, for real.

The second beer was also disappointing. He left it unfinished and turned around, since beer wasn’t going to fix his problems. Maybe he should look for a hook-up too? Could he be ready for casual sex now?

“Iero, come drink with us!”, one of his bandmates called for him from a table and he sat down with the group. He would take any distractions he could to not think about Gerard and Tim going to town.

It was about an hour later that his phone vibrated and he saw a notification in his screen from Gerard’s DM. He was half listening to a story about… ghosts, maybe? He thought it was rude as fuck to be on your phone when you were in front of people, but he needed to know why Gerard was texting him so soon. He even got worried.

“Tim jr is a stupid name”, he read the message three times wondering what the hell it meant. A couple of messages later he understood the problem and all of the knots in his stomach he didn’t know he had, came undone. Gerard wasn’t with Tim. Gerard was at home, alone, because apparently Tim wasn’t his type, even if he was checking him out before the show.

He wasn’t his type! For fuck’s sake, Gerard had _a type_ . He had fuckin’ _standards_! He wouldn’t fuck just anyone and somehow that made him feel good. Frank was now part of the finely selected group who had access to Gerard’s Way’s ass. He was going to print it in a mug or t-shirt. Both. Also a baseball cap. 

Okay, maybe he ought to feel bad for Tim… But he couldn’t.

“You’re smiling a lot, Frankie. Is that your girlfriend?”, someone at the table asked.

“Or boyfriend?”

“Or non-binary partner?”

“It’s no one”, he said, unable to look up from his phone or change the expression on his face because of course he wanted to know more about Gerard’s type and he had answered immediately it was Frank. He hated how smooth that asshole could be, and how a line as cheesy as that one brought him back to the palm of his hand, about to answer ‘On my way to your place, I’m sucking your dick right now.’

Somehow he came up with a way more non-committed message and left his phone on the table for a moment so his friends could stop prying. He tried his best to not stare absentmindedly at them while they talked.

“Just check your phone, man. You’re not even listening to us.”

“Sure I am”, Frank argued, which didn’t come up great since he was reaching for his phone again. Gerard had just asked him what he was wearing and then tried to get nudes.

“So what was I saying?”

“Something about… um… clowns”, he ventured, laughing at texting Gerard he wouldn’t send any nudes. He looked up to the group again. “Evil. Evil clowns.”

“Dude, I was talking about my graduation…”

“Seriously? Sorry, I…”, Gerard sent him a picture of him in a skeleton onesie. Shit, he was adorable. “I’ll get some more drinks”, he got up from his seat, his eyes still glued to the screen.

“Watch where you’re going!”

Even though he raised one hand to flip them off and prove his multitasking skills, he had trouble getting to the bar, but managed to sit down. “Hi. Gimme… uh… beers”, he told the bartender while Gerard and him exchanged messages establishing he was more than happy to receive dick pics from him.

“How many? Tab? There’s a special today-”

Frank held a finger up, asking for a moment, and the guy went on to another customer. Gerard had him waiting for an explicit picture. That’s where one could really understand time’s relativity, right? A minute was an eternity when waiting for nudes.

He ran a hand through his hair, still a bit wet from the show, and lowered his phone for a moment. “Hi, hey, sorry again, can I get five beers?”, he asked and having a pause helped him text Gerard he didn’t need to send anything if he didn’t feel like it. He wanted him to know it was okay to just talk, not everything about them had to be sexual.

But the argument was lost when he got the photo. He only glanced at it for a second and resisted the impulse to zoom it to get a better look, because someone could see it over his shoulder, the club being so crowded. “Fuckin’ tease”, he wrote back anyway.

“Are you sending one back?”

He saw the beers in front of him and then turned around to the table where his friends were waiting. “Gee, I’m still at the fuckin’ club.”

“Restroom.”

“Can’t. Some assholes don’t knock.”

“FUCKIN’ LOCK THE DOOR, YOU JERK.”

Okay, that had been fuckin’ funny. Gerard earned the picture. He got up and left an extra bill for the bartender to get the beers to his friends. He assumed they would forgive him if this round was on him. Either way he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything with Gee baiting him like that. 

“Fine. But I want to see your face”, he wrote while walking to the restroom.

It was empty, lucky him. He locked himself in the stall furthest from the entrance and opened the new picture, in which Gee made sure to remind him of how good his mouth had been just last night. At that point, Frank was more than okay with sending him a photo of what he was causing in him.

He was unbuttoning his jeans with his left hand when he got another message. Gerard wanted a picture of his ass, of course he would ask for something absurd. What the fuck did he want? For him to walk butt naked to the mirror and snap a pretty picture?

Shit, only thinking about his face that time he had walked in on him while taking a piss made his dick harder. He thought Gerard would lock the door from the inside and do stuff to his ass, but he hadn’t. He just left him there to jerk off alone.

He let out an involuntary groan when he finally touched himself and took a picture with his right hand, sending it to him. It was a whole challenge to open the first photo Gerard sent and zoom it in to try and see Gerard’s cock through the fabric. His fuckin’ hair… Frank could barely believe he was masturbating in a restroom for the second time because of him. And the asshole wasn’t replying anymore.

“You happy?”, he asked. Like, I showed you my dick, please respond.

Fortunately he got a pretty self-explanatory picture back along with a review on their sexting that turned out to be excellent fap material in that context, so of course Frank felt obliged to send back a picture of his own result, his hand covered in jizz.

He pressed his forehead on the stall’s door, trying to breathe normally again. 

He was fucked, not in the good way.

***

All week he heard nothing from Gerard, no matter how many song lyrics he posted to indirectly tell him how he was feeling, or topless pictures. Not even videos of his dog made the trick. But Frank tried to keep his cool. Well, he managed to not text, call or visit him, which was really a challenge. He had been desperate enough to visit Reddit and read relationship advice. Weirdly enough, someone had described a situation pretty similar to his, the only difference being Frank and Gerard had had sex more times. Still, the general consensus in that kind of situation seemed to be to give each other space. Take a chill pill.

If those pills were sold, Frank would have taken the whole goddamn box, okay? He really wanted to be chill, it just wasn’t in his nature.

And sometimes he couldn’t tell if Gerard wanted to be chill at all. On the one hand, Claire had called him to inform Gerard had made an appointment for today and Frank had to assume the glory-hole thing was a kink of his, because Gerard already knew he could DM him anytime and Frank would be ready and hot on his doorstep in 30 minutes or less. Making an appointment was a message of ‘let’s keep on being fuck-buddies in the most impersonal way possible.’ 

On the other hand, he did things like the message Frank had just received: _“Hey, hope you’re doing well!”,_ very polite. _“I just wanted to tell you that I loved your show. You were truly amazing. It’s very inspiring seeing you play, I can tell your whole heart is in it. I’m sure you’ll make it far.”_

Frank rubbed his face on his hands. That was the most BEAUTIFUL thing anyone had ever told him, it was everything he had dreamed his romantic partner would say about his music, it was just the kind of support he was looking for and his chest felt so warm inside he thought he could cry right there, behind the counter.

“You okay there, buddy?”, Molly asked next to him.

“No”, he complained. “I’m fuckin’ in love.”

“That’s good!”

“No, but I hate him”, he ran both hands through his hair. “And I love him. And I hate him.”

“Okay, Helga Pataki… Stop growling!”

“I can’t!”

He took off his apron, unable to even pretend he was going to focus in the 10 minutes remaining from his shift. Molly didn’t say anything, she still owed him for that one time she used him as his love mule and was surely way too happy and in love in her perfect relationship and pitied him. Happy in love people made him so angry.

There was still time left for his appointment, so he killed time smoking outside. He read the message again and finally allowed himself to smile. Gee was a good person. Perhaps it was time to stop delaying the inevitable and tell him what he had in mind. He thought Gerard would find a way to let him down easy and maybe they could remain friends if he didn’t let his unilateral feelings ruin things any further. He didn’t want to hate Gerard.

He went inside the building trying not to think too much about how that could be the last time. It had been fun, but all good things must end. Right?

A chuckle escaped his lips when Claire gave him Gerard’s set of rules. He had only one: _“no needles.”_

“He doesn’t like needles”, he told Claire, as if she needed an explanation of their inside joke.

“There are no needles in this place”, she muttered, shaking her head.

She left him alone. Gerard had picked missionary again. Interesting. That meant Frank could suck his cock one more time and he felt so thankful for it, because he had been thinking A LOT about that while looking at his picture in the last few days.

He tried to focus on that idea instead of what was coming after it. That was a place to have fun. Gerard wanted to have fun. He did too, mostly.

He got on the table and caressed Gerard’s thighs. Fuck, he was going to miss them… No, no, shit, come back. Enjoy the moment. Be in the _now_. He swallowed, trying to calm down, to get lost in touching Gee’s skin as he used to do before, but something wasn’t right. Surely he was doing an awful job, because Gerard was limp. 

Well, nothing his mouth couldn’t fix. He leaned over and placed a kiss on his groin.

Then some sort of alarm started blaring. What the fuck was that?

Just a few seconds after, Claire was banging on the door. He got down from the table, staring over his shoulder, and let her in. “What’s wrong?”

“Frank, he pressed the panic button. I need you to wait outside.”

“What? What happened?”

“I need you to wait outside”, she repeated, moving him aside so she could come in. Another person placed a hand on his arm to guide him outside and Frank did nothing but follow, too disoriented to resist it.

“Wait!”, he managed once he got to the reception desk. “Let me talk to him!”

“We can’t, sorry.”

He rubbed his face in his hands and tried to breathe, to convince himself that it couldn’t be so terrible, because he had just been in there with him. Maybe he realized he wasn’t in the mood… That was the most likely explanation, looking back, but he was still worried. They were taking too long, didn’t tell him anything and it was driving him insane.

Frank was ready to break through anyone in his way when he heard Gerard’s voice getting closer. “I’m really sorry, Claire...”

“It’s okay, that’s what the button is for.”

“Yeah, but…”

Gerard got quiet when he realized Frank was in front of him. He looked like the air had been knocked out of him. Also like he had been crying; his eyes were red and when Frank got closer, he saw his eyelashes wet. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I… yeah”, Gerard said. “Um. Thank you, Claire. See you later.”

“Goodbye, take care”, she replied, giving Frank a quick glance before going back to the hallway.

Gerard seemed so uncomfortable Frank couldn’t press for an answer. He was avoiding his gaze, rubbing his neck, all of his body language told him something was embarrassing Gerard and he didn’t understand what could have happened for him to react that way.

“Do you…”, he tried asking, his voice was barely a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Do you know what this place is?”

“I…”, Frank said, his face an ode to surprise.“Of course I know.”

Gerard nodded. The next thing he did was walking through the lobby and getting to the exit door. Frank followed him closely. He wanted to be sensitive, respect his space, he wanted to do a bunch of things that weren't grabbing his arm and demanding an explanation, but getting in front of him to stop him was mandatory. “Gee, what happened in there? Did I do something wrong? Did I scare you?”, he asked what he could come up with. “Please. You know I won’t judge, but I need to know.”

The face Gerard now made was an expression he had never before seen in him and certainly not what he expected in that situation. It was shock. He even went pale. Something had clicked inside his head. Something clicked in Frank’s head too.

“Oh my God… Oh my God, it was you, oh my God”, Gerard freaked out, leaning on the wall behind him, staring at the ground, repeating the words so he himself could believe it. “I’m so dumb, fuck, I’m so fuckin’ dumb… how can I be this dumb… they should give me a medal or something... I'm the dumbest motherfucker on Earth, aliens should come get me...”

Frank was speechless. He never thought this could happen. He had run so many scenarios in his head for him and Gerard, but never this one. He wasn’t prepared for it.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” Gerard raised his voice and his gaze. He now looked hurt.

“I thought you knew!”

“How could I?! Everything’s anonymous! They value their clients’ privacy!” he pointed at the building.

“We met outside every single time!”, Frank said in the same tone. “You fuckin’ asked Claire for me!” 

“She wouldn’t give me your name! Did she give you my name?! That traitor! JUDAS!”

“She didn’t! I… I just knew it was you. It was obvious.”

“I’m so fuckin’ dumb”, Gerard went back to the self-hating stage. Frank didn’t know if he should disagree. He didn’t know anything anymore. “Oh my God… _you_ were my first”, he covered his face with his hands.

“Your first… what?”

“First everything! Fuck, I didn’t know! You should have told me, you asshole!”, Gerard suddenly got closer and pushed him. Frank grabbed his wrists, upset. There were too many things going on.

“What do you mean ‘first everything’?”

Gerard’s face was as red as his hair. “Whatever. Let me go.”

Frank didn’t want to, but released him. Gerard turned his back on him and started walking. “Hey, c’mon. We need to talk!”

“I don’t wanna!”

“Not talking is what got us into this mess!”, he cut him off again, standing in front of him. “Please, let’s talk. I care about you, I… there’s so much I need to tell you.”

“Frank… I can’t even look at you right now.”

“Why?”

“Because…”, Gerard pinched the bridge of his nose. His voice sounded as if he was about to cry. “Don’t you get it!? This is so fuckin’ embarrassing! I thought we… I thought you were two different people, the cute guy from the coffee shop and the mystery lover…”

Wow. Cool nickname.

“But now…”, he went on, swallowing the knot in this throat. “It was you all along, and you fuckin’ knew!”, he got mad again. “And I fuckin’ lost my virginity to you and I know it’s just a social construct to slut-shame women and it’s not a big deal, I didn’t care about it before, so why the fuck do I--”

“What? When?”, Frank interrupted, too confused to wait for Gerard to come to his conclusion, and his mind took him to their first encounter in the glory-hole. “That was…? I didn’t know… No, c’mon, you’re lying! That can’t be true.”

Gerard had the face of someone who wanted to punch someone else in the face. With a chair. “Yeah, sure, I’m lying. I _want_ you to believe that I was a 26-year old virgin. Of all the lies I could tell in the world, that’s the one I’m sticking with.”

Now it was Frank’s turn to be shocked. Gerard pushed him aside and kept his angry walk. Frank snapped out of it and followed him.

“What about all those dates? The guy from Grindr? You had a Grindr profile!”

“I went on ONE awful date and the guy ghosted me.”

“But… the glory-hole? You went so many times!”

Gerard took his wallet out and handed him his loyalty card. “Five. Three with you, two with random guys, I GUESS”, the last phrase was bitter and ironic. “And that’s it, that’s all the sex I’ve had. Oh, and the one time with you in my basement. Six.”

“I… I thought you were…”

“What? A slut?” Gerard crossed his arms to his chest. “I am. But not a successful one.”

“That’s not… Gee, I would never call you that.”

“Is that why you set me up with your friend? You could’ve just told me you weren’t interested.”

“I am interested! I just thought _you_ weren’t…”

“Me? Why? I told you I was.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I’m pretty sure I did.”

“Okay, so we’re both interested! Let’s give it a try!” Frank suggested, trying to get something out of that conversation, because he was now realizing how badly he had messed up and was too scared to let Gerard go.

“I don’t… I need a moment”, Gerard said after taking a big breath. 

“Sure, let’s go get a coffee and--”

“I don’t know, Frank, I… just need some time to think. This is… I don’t even know where I’m standing anymore. This is a whole new perspective.”

Well, yeah. Even if Frank didn't want to, he had to agree with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sad this is ending. Promise me you'll read my next story?  
> LET'S MAKE A BLOOD PACT


	8. No pride

Frank tried to see things from Gerard’s point of view. Okay, so Gerard thought they had only met at the café, been on just one date, had sex for the first time in his basement, that Frank wasn’t interested in him and that every encounter at that place had been with some stranger. It was also a new perspective for Frank.

“Why did you ask to meet with me then?”, he asked. “I mean, Mystery Lover or whatever.”

Gerard folded his arms and tried to get something off the ground with his foot. “Because he was good… Well, you. You were good”, he said the truth, without looking up. “The other people I got paired up with were disappointing, so…”, he shrugged.

“But… I told you we could meet up to have sex. Do you like the glory-hole better or…?”, Frank just had to continue. He needed to know if Gerard didn’t like the idea of being intimately close with someone else.

“No, l don’t. I mean… I enjoyed it, but it was better when… I already told you this”, he pointed out. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?”, Frank looked at him as if he was crazy. “When have I ever--”

Gerard interrupted him, visibly upset. “You have! A lot!”, he let out. “Frank, I tried. I’m not good at this, but I tried and every time you got… weird. You said no, you sent me off with someone else…”

“Me? You’re saying _I_ got weird?”, Frank gestured loudly with his hands. “You were the one flirting with other people--”

“I don’t even know how to flirt!”

“Don’t give me that shit, you’re an expert! You’re smooth as fuck with your one-liners and tight pants and… and… fuckin’ batting your eyelashes acting all innocent!”

Gerard brought a hand to his own chest, ready to resent the accusation and pretend to be offended, but quickly came to his senses. It wouldn’t work. Frank was onto him. “Okay, I… Maybe I’m better at it than I thought, but you were the one playing hot and cold!”, he accused him instead. “I’ve been hot all the time!”

“I didn’t know it was just for me!”, Frank complained. “I thought you had a fuckin’ harem!”

The only fact that Gerard couldn’t stop to picture exactly what a fuckin’ harem would look like was proof enough of how much he needed some time to think before trying to fix that situation. “This is fucked up”, he said, pressing the bridge of his nose. “Too fucked up. We’re getting nowhere.”

Frank seemed tired and frustrated as well. They were right in the middle of the street trying to discuss something neither of them could put into words without blaming each other.

“Look…”, Frank spoke first, trying a different approach. “I like you. There it is. We both messed up, but we can fix it. I want to.”

That’s what Gerard had wanted to hear, but it didn’t feel like he had pictured it. Not anymore. Something was wrong, he didn’t know what, he only knew he felt uncomfortable and wanted to get back home right now. Watching Frank’s face made him uneasy, which was weird because it still looked perfect. Frank’s face had done nothing wrong. 

“Gee?”, Frank called after getting no response. “C’mon… say something.”

“I can’t really talk right now”, he tried to explain. His brain had simply turned off. Great timing. “I… sorry, I don’t know.”

Frank looked crushed for a moment and Gerard could only stand watching him for a second before going back to stare at the ground. He would’ve loved nothing more than saying ‘yes’ and go on with their lives, with whatever happened in romantic comedies after the big, dumb conflict. No idea what it was. Happily ever after?

See? He wasn’t ready for this.

“Take your time”, Frank offered. His tone made it obvious how hard it was for him to say it. “Just… promise me we’ll talk, okay? Don’t… don’t disappear on me.”

That was kind of what Gerard wanted to do, so he forced himself to think before answering. He would have to eventually contact Frank and meet with him to have that conversation and the idea filled him with anxiety already. 

“Okay. I promise”, he finally replied, knowing it’d be hard, but willing to make the effort.

“Thanks.”

Frank sounded so sincere, Gerard raised his head and gave him one last look while waving as awkwardly as possible to say goodbye, turning his back to him without saying anything else.

It was Frank’s turn to make an effort and let him go, even though all he wanted was to make him stay until he gave him a positive answer, right here, right now. Or at least ask for a kiss before he left, but he still held hope on not becoming Brad #2.

***

Once in his natural habitat, Gerard tried following his routine as if it was just another day and threw his sneakers to some random corner of his room where he wouldn’t be able to find them when he needed them. He took off his pants and repeated the previous process to later lit a cigarette on the way to his bed. If he still drank, that’d be the moment to grab a warm bottle of vodka from his nightstand, but luckily that stage of his life was behind him and the only memory made him feel nauseous. 

“I’m so dumb!”, he had to say out loud again. He deserved to hear it.

He had never felt so stupid in his entire life. Of course now that he _knew_ it was so easy to look back and stare at all those moments he should’ve paid attention to. It was so obvious! From the beginning! Why had he been so quick to dismiss Frank as his partner the first time?

Oh, his height. Right. He still thought that was weird and got his phone out to ask Frank about it, but just reading their previous DMs and seeing his profile picture brought back that awful feeling to his stomach. Besides, the last message he had sent was marked as read and Frank hadn’t replied, surely because they were going to meet at the glory-hole. Frank knew they were going to have sex while reading that message. He knew he would have Gerard’s ass at his disposal in half an hour.

All of it seemed tainted from Frank knowing something he didn’t. The worst part being he just knew Frank had always had the upper hand in whatever sort of relationship they had because of Gerard’s lack of experience. This was the confirmation. 

He didn’t get how Frank could like him, especially when he thought Gerard was an insensitive horny fuck, instead of the very sensitive horny fuck he was in reality. Well, yes, it’s true he only started this adventure looking for sex, trying to get some use out of his forsaken genitals, but never at the expense of someone else -hence the glory-hole. No way he could’ve imagined Frank would get such a wrong idea about him and try to maintain his distance to remain as fuckbuddies. Not even friends, just fuckbuddies. 

Once again he wasn’t meeting the expectations. He would always be a guy incapable of communicating who ended up disappointing anyone he dared to approach.

He missed his own ignorance and consequent bliss. He missed the date they had, when they could openly talk about so many things and Frank wouldn’t make him feel weird about any of the stupid stuff he shared or asked for. He had felt so comfortable he even thought about how much he’d like for his sex life to be just like that. And maybe even his affective life. Perhaps that was the moment when he started thinking having a romantic partner wouldn’t be so bad.

Was that what he wanted from Frank? Partly, yes. He had been scared to ask for it, to tell him that they could not see other people and see each other instead, more than once a week and actually arrange for it to happen rather than running into each other at the café. He liked Frank. But he didn’t like the feeling thinking about him now brought to his stomach.

His phone vibrated when Mikey messaged him. He couldn’t decide if he was disappointed or relieved it wasn’t Frank.

“Where are you?”, it said.

“Basement”, he replied.

It didn't occur to him that he would hear Mikey’s footsteps coming down the stairs immediately or that he would enter his room without first asking first if he was dressed, to which he was obviously going to say no to scare him away. “Hey, Frank’s been posting sad songs for a while. Did you guys fight or something?”

“Sad songs?”

“Yeah, fuckin’ Wild World and Wonderwall, he’s havin’ a full meltdown. Musically.”

Gerard furrowed his eyebrows. He thought Frank was mad, not sad like that. Well, when he asked him not to disappear he seemed sad… Gerard rubbed his neck and looked at Mikey. “Yeah, we kinda…”, how could he end that phrase?

“Broke up?”

“We weren’t dating, so…”

“You don’t have to be dating to break up”, Mikey shrugged. “Are you okay though?”

“No”, Gerard confessed, for himself too. “Frank wants to fix things, but I don’t know if it’s possible.”

“Why? What happened?”

“We… uh…” Gerard saw how expectantly Mikey stared at him, maybe even a bit worried. They never had the chance to talk much about that kind of stuff because Gerard’s love life hadn’t existed before and Mikey didn’t need help. It reminded him of the time he first told him about Frank, back when mentioning the glory-hole served no purpose. Now he didn’t know how to avoid it. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Well, try.”

Of course Mikey would say that, as if it was that easy. Gerard felt like he was walking through a minefield. Or playing Yu-Gi-Oh and trying not to activate any tramp cards -that was something he had actually experienced.

“You see, it’s… we…”, he tried again. “So when we first met, right? He was this guy, this really beautiful motherfucker that I knew nothing about. And I was… well, I don’t know, me. He felt out of my league, but I tried anyway. You know I tried, Mikey, you were there.”

“I was. I dyed your hair and went shopping with you.”

“Right! Yeah!”, Gerard got excited and pointed at him. “You’re my witness!”

“Is he mad you didn’t try harder?”, Mikey ventured.

“No, no. He… He got the wrong impression of me. He thought I was… I don’t fuckin’ know, a playboy maybe? Like I did this a lot and he was just one more for my harem.” Mikey kept his deadpan expression, but Gerard knew him too well. “You can laugh.”

Mikey laughed his fuckin’ ass off. “Why the fuck did he think that?”

“Seems I’m better at flirting than I thought I was?”, he had to say, which was one of the big realizations from his talk with Frank. “And, uh… He saw me talking to your classmate…”

“Brad.”

“I don’t fuckin’ care anymore”, he gave up, shaking his head. “It was just a lot of unfortunate shit.”

“And his own insecurities.”

“Mine?”

“No, Frank’s. He’s gotta be insecure as shit to assume you weren’t _that_ into him despite everything you did.”

Gerard shut his mouth. The thought about Frank being insecure never went through his head, it wasn’t what he came across like. Actually, it was totally the opposite of that, which made the idea harder to accept, but it still made so much sense. Fuck. Were they all multidimensional characters who couldn’t be judged solely on the few actions they displayed? 

He, too, had misunderstood Frank.

“I think you’re right.”

“Real Mikey 1, Mental Mikey 0.”

That managed to get a laugh from Gerard, who took the moment to check his phone and go through Frank’s stories. He really was having a musical meltdown: Love of my life, The sound of silence, Always (the Bon Jovi one!)… Was it time to call the police?

“Fuck, I feel like Dr. Phil”, Mikey went on, too full of himself. “C’mon, what else? Why did you fight? I bet I can sort that shit out too.”

Okay, maybe it’d be fine. Mikey was a fuckin’ wizard, surely he would understand and help him sort out his ideas. He would have an amazing insight on the situation, enough to get Gerard back to a place where he could reflect, grow and be ready to face an adult relationship, what Frank was probably expecting from him. Yes, it was time to be brave and put his thoughts into words, no matter how fucked up they were.

But still with no sexual details. They were brothers, for fuck’s sake.

“Fine, so… You know that feeling when you’ve been secretly meeting with someone thinking it was someone else and also meeting out in the open but never realizing it was actually the same two people because you were so incredibly blind-sighted by your own emotions, and now that everything is said and done you end up thinking you’re worthless and don’t deserve to be loved and nothing everyone else says can get you out of it?”, he barely breathed while talking and then stared directly into Mikey’s eyes. “You know?”

Mikey blinked exactly two times. “I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re talking about.”

“It’s like… you feel betrayed”, he kept trying. “But you can’t actually feel betrayed because there was no formal betrayal, you went willingly, you accepted everything, but how can you accept everything when you don’t know what ‘everything’ could turn into? Is it your fault for not setting up rules?”

“I…”, Mikey massaged his temples. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Gerard sighed, copying his gesture. “I’m giving ME a headache.”

“Why can’t you have, like, normal problems?”

“What are normal problems? Like he cheated on me or stole my money?”

“Yeah. Did he?”

“No. We just... He messed up, I messed up…”

“If you both messed up, then it didn’t happen. The messes cancel each other out.”

“It sounds right, but it feels wrong”, Gerard replied, pensive.

“You need to sleep it off, talk to your pillow. Tomorrow everything will be better”, Mikey said, getting up.

“Ran out of advice?”

“Yup, and got a date. Sorry. But you’re okay overall, right?”

Gerard took the question seriously, even if Mikey didn’t mean for him to do it since he was running late, but had to wait because sharing a blood tie was about caring or whatever. Despite everything, he wasn’t feeling as broken as he did before, maybe because it wasn’t over. Frank still wanted to talk to him and… well, perhaps knowing he was sad too served as a sick kind of connection between them.

“Yeah, I am. I’ll be fine.”

***

You know who wasn’t fine? Frank. He was SUFFERING, IN ALL CAPS. Because he was stuck in a shitty situation where he KNEW, he just KNEW, he could fix it, but had to wait for Gerard to be ready, and you know who sucked at waiting? FRANK. And what was Frank’s least favorite thing in the whole universe? WAITING. It was going straight to his no-no list. No waiting play. Waiting without doing anything at all? Don’t know her. Waiting sucked ass, not in a good way.

It was Saturday and he had a shift at the café, so he was walking over there wearing headphones while Everybody Hurts played and he became the cliché he promised to destroy. Not even being dumped by his ex had left him in such a pathetic state, because there was nothing to wait for when someone said “I can’t deal with your shit anymore”, or whatever. You just had to accept it and move on. There was no moving on here, only SUFFERING.

He sadly opened the door, sadly took off his headphones, and sadly greeted Molly.

“Morning”, she said, smiling.

“Morning…”, he said. Sad. :(

He gestured for her not to even try to speak to him as he went to leave his backpack and jacket in his locker. There were five minutes left for his shift to start so he checked his phone in case Gerard had messaged him. If his phone could talk, it would tell him: “No, nothing has happened in the last 3 seconds since you last checked. Have some dignity, please.”

What he did have were messages on Instagram from other people, worried about him sharing his playlist -’nobody hmu’- on his stories. The first message was from his ex: _“Told you you’d get hurt.”_ Clenching his teeth, he answered: _“Only my tattoo artist and Satan can judge me.”_

The second message was from his tattoo artist: _“Need a cover-up?”_ , Frank growled and wrote back: _“Not this time, Kat. And only Satan can judge me.”_

Since Satan hadn’t messaged him too, he put his phone away in his pocket and went out to start his shift. Good thing the store didn’t have a ‘service with a smile’ policy.

He tried as hard as he could to push Gerard away from his thoughts, but everything held a memory from him. The table in which he seated, the place where they smoked together, the counter where he placed his coffee… He had used the restroom for customers to avoid crying in the staff one while remembering the stupidest scene in this story.

What would Gerard be doing right now? It was 11am and he hadn’t uploaded any stories, but had seen Frank’s. So he knew he was suffering. GOOD.

“Hey Frank!”, he heard and put his phone away again immediately, just in time to greet Ray Toro himself. “How you doin’, man?”

“Not great, dude. Not great”, he replied, assuming it wouldn’t work to pretend otherwise.

“Yeah, I figured… Sorry about that.”

Frank shrugged. “It’s okay. What can I get you?”

“A large latte, please.”

“Coming right up”, he said, grabbing one of the paper cups while Molly greeted a new customer. 

“You wanna talk about it?”, Ray offered, keeping him company. He was a saint.

“Na, it’s… complicated, I guess. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

Yes, he couldn’t picture himself explaining to anyone how he and Gerard had sex through a glory-hole that was supposed to be anonymous, but he had realized it was him and tried to carefully approach him as he assumed Gee was a fuckin’ predator and also knew Frank had been his partner, and that only yesterday he had found out Gerard was a virgin, with no experience in romance at all, who didn’t know about their encounters and had tried to kind of start a serious relationship with Frank, who was trying to keep away out of fear of messing everything up as he always did.

Would anyone even believe that had happened?

“Well…”, Ray looked at him as he grabbed the coffee. “I really hope you guys can work it out. Gee had been doing so well these past few weeks. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him so happy. I think you’re good for him, you know?”

Okay, maybe crying couldn’t be discarded just yet.

“Really?”, he asked, getting really emotional about it. “I don’t know him that well, so…”

“Oh, yeah, for real. I mean, he went out last week! Mikey and I had been trying to drag him out for like a year, but this time he actually wanted to go to a club. He was so excited to see your band, man.”

“A year?”, Frank had to make sure, he didn’t know if Ray was exaggerating for emphasis. 

Ray nodded and got serious. “Well, Gee’s got this… social anxiety thing, and since he started working from home, it got worse.”

So there were still things left to find out. Sure, it made all of the sense in the world. It explained why he was unaware of how people perceived him, why he thought he couldn’t flirt, why he… went to the glory-hole in the first place. But what had Frank done to get him out of it? Maybe… Gerard just liked him a lot? Enough to overcome his anxiety?

“I didn’t know, I just invited him”, he tried to be honest. He hadn’t done anything special. “Shit… I really want to fix things, but he doesn’t want to talk. Yet.”

“Maybe I could--”

“No, no, sorry, I wasn’t asking you to”, Frank rushed to say. “It’s fine, we’ll talk when he’s ready.”

Frank obviously didn’t sound like it was really fine, he only pretended to be, wanting to be strong, because it wasn’t fair to get someone else involved in their issue. He didn’t mean to gang up against him, and Gerard had already promised they would eventually talk, so all that was left was… waiting. Shit.

Not that it had been a test, but Ray’s smile got warmer after hearing Frank decline his help. “You’re right”, he said, stepping away from the counter. “He’ll come around. Hang in there.”

“I will”, Frank declared, sure of himself. “I’m not going anywhere”, he smiled back. 

If there was anything in his favor, it was being the most stubborn motherfucker on planet Earth.

***

Several days of radio silence went by. Gerard didn’t mean to be cruel, he hadn’t forgotten his promise, but he just didn’t know what to say to Frank. Or how to initiate a conversation. Or what he wanted from said conversation. Thinking about it only made him feel awkward and he wanted to at least get rid of the uncomfortable sensation before reaching out.

Part of him feared it would never go away, but he tried to remain positive. Besides, he had entered one of his workaholic cycles where he couldn’t stop drawing, only sleeping while passing out and eating what any of his kind family members would throw his way. It was the best method to avoid reality. Guaranteed satisfaction.

Anyway, he was surprised Frank hadn’t contacted him. He had been pretty stubborn in their last conversation and Gerard had trouble picturing him just calmly waiting, so of course part of him believed he didn’t care anymore. Yes, surely, why not? Maybe he was sharing sad break-up songs about someone else, why would he assume they were for him?

Yes, he was sick of himself too. That’s why he focused on work.

However, he suddenly saw his phone screen lighting up. A notification from Frank. His work could wait, he had to read the message right now, even if it was about how he was done waiting for him.

What he had sent was a video of his dog, wagging its tail and barking. Gerard loved that dog, he couldn’t remember if he had mentioned it to Frank, but seeing the video brought a smile to his face.

_“Hey, sorry about this, Sweet Pea really wants to know if you’re okay. I tried explaining to her that we should leave you alone, but you know dogs, they don’t really understand the concept of time.”_

His smile got wider, he even laughed. Of course Frank would find an adorable way of asking how he was doing.

 _“That’s sweet of her”_ , Gerard answered. _“Please tell her I said woof woof bark arf woof bark bark.”_

_“Well, now she knows more than me. Thanks, that should calm her down.”_

Gerard stared at his phone and took a deep breath. He assumed he could just not answer anymore, Frank wasn’t pressuring him into talking, he had given him a way out of the conversation and he really believed he just wanted to make sure he was okay, but it was best to just get on with it.

 _“How have you been?”_ , he asked.

Frank wrote and deleted multiple times. _“Ask me something else”_ , he finally sent.

_“Do you still want to talk?”_

_“Yeah. Can we meet?”_

Fuck. No, he couldn’t do it. Just thinking about being in front of him and trying to speak made his hands sweaty. He wasn’t ready for it. And he wished he was, Frank deserved to have an adult conversation, but he didn’t want to stand him up after getting a panic attack trying to meet with him.

 _“No, sorry”_ , he forced himself to write. _“I don’t think I’d be able to see your face.”_

Frank saw the message and didn’t reply.

Gerard got up from his desk and walked to lay down on the bed. _“We can talk like this though, if you want.”_

_“Okay. Can I ask a few questions?”_

_“Sure.”_

That could make things easier. He had no idea how to lead the issue, but maybe answering what Frank asked wouldn’t be so bad.

_“This will be very high-school-like, but, do you still like me?”_

Gerard chuckled. _“Yes, I do.”_

_“That’s good. Me too.”_

Reading those words gave him the calm he didn’t know he needed. It was a good place to start, knowing they agreed and felt the same. Frank seemed to know what he was doing, perhaps he had been through conflicts like that before… Well, he obviously had been in relationships. Not that he and Frank were in a relationship… 

Right on time another message got him out of the spiral he was getting into.

_“Why can’t you meet me?”_

_“I don’t know”,_ Gerard confessed. _“I just have a weird feeling about seeing you.”_

_“Are you mad at me?”_

The question made Gerard realize it wasn’t anger what he was feeling. He wasn’t even mad about chatting with Frank, he liked talking to him, he had wanted to do it, but the idea of seeing him in person made his stomach sick. _“I’m not mad at you”_ , he sent and kept writing. _“The more I think about it, the more I realize I can’t blame you. It could have easily been the other way around, if I wasn’t so stupid.”_

_“I’m not sure if you’re being funny or you really think that about you, but I’ll just say it: you’re not stupid. This whole situation is stupid, not you.”_

_“No, but I am!”_ , he argued. _“It’s been scientifically proven that getting fucked in the ass makes you lose IQ, you know?”_

_“I don’t think that’s right, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve never done it.”_

That made Gerard grunt and roll his eyes. _“See? Now I feel worse.”_

_“Why?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Try? I really want to understand how you’re feeling.”_

Gerard sat on the bed, taking it seriously. Sure, yeah, okay. If Frank wanted a VIP ticket inside his mind, then he would get it. There was nothing left to lose. He didn’t think he could be more embarrassed than when he found out about everything and if he ended up weirding Frank out, well, at least he had tried. Although every new message from Frank persisting on his thoughts made him sure it wouldn’t be easy to scare him off.

 _“I think I feel below you, somehow”_ , he wrote, surprising himself at his own words, gaining a better understanding while trying to explain it to someone else. _“I already did because I’ve never been interested in romance, or sex, at all. So I didn’t know anything. I still don’t know much. And I feel inferior to you? Like I have no idea what you think I can offer you. I have nothing. I know nothing. Whatever little power I thought I had was gone when I realized all this time you really had the upper hand in all of this.”_

Frank began typing immediately. Gerard felt good getting all of that out of his chest, but now he had to read Frank’s answer and that was scary too.

_“Gee, I’ve messed up a lot. I’m not the expert you think I am. And I don’t expect anything from you that you haven’t shown me yourself. I have fun when I’m with you, you make me laugh, you’re sweet, you’re smart, you’re you, you know? Just because I knew who you were behind that wall, doesn’t mean I have all the power in this. I’m crazy about you. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I just didn’t want to scare you away.”_

Okay, yes, Gerard could empathize with the not wanting to scare him off part, but the rest of it seemed weird. He had trouble seeing himself in that light, and also believing Frank was just as worried as he had been.

_“I understand, and I appreciate everything you’re saying, but I still feel that way. You don’t know what it’s like to be at another person’s mercy. I don’t even know how to explain it, I just feel that you’ll never really get it.”_

Once again he could see Frank typing and deleting. He felt bad about putting him in a tough spot, but it was true. It needed to be said because it wouldn’t go away if they ignored it.

 _“Let’s put a pin on that”_ , Frank sent. _“Can you tell me why you pressed the panic button?”_

Gerard sighed. It wasn’t something he was excited to share.

 _“I did it because I wasn’t into it anymore. While I was there I realized I didn’t want a stranger”,_ he sent the first message and bit his lips while writing the second one. _“I wanted it to be you. Well, IT WAS YOU, BUT I DIDN’T KNOW”_ , he added, unable to hold it in.

_“Can I call you?”_

It was a stretch, but he could see how texting wasn’t enough and he had already said everything he could think of, so maybe it would be about hearing what Frank had to say, or whatever. He could always just hang up if it got to be too much, right?

Frank called him as soon as he said yes. “Hey, sorry, texts just leave too many things open to interpretation.”

“That’s true.”

“I… fuck, I missed your voice.”

Gerard couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Okay, stop flirting, we’re trying to fix something here.”

“Yeah, I know”, Frank laughed. “So… I have an idea, but I need to make sure of a few things first. Are you really not mad at me?”

“I’m really not mad at you.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Not even a teeny-tiny bit.”

“And you’re not scared of the glory-hole?”

“What?”, he asked, caught off guard by the question. “No?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, but if you’re going to suggest doing it again, I don’t think--”

“Listen, Gee”, he interrupted him. “There’s a simple solution to… _even_ things out.”

Gerard remained silent, letting the words form images in his head.

“A way to achieve... _equality._ ”

Gerard kept quiet, his heart was beating faster.

“So we can… _switch_ experiences.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, Frank”, Gerard assured him, trying not to laugh. “But you don’t have to do that, I don’t want to punish you, that’s even more messed up than what already happened.”

“It’s not a punishment! It’s… something I want to try out with someone I like, and that may give me some… _perspective._ ”

“Shit, you’re good with words”, Gerard had to admit. “Are you sure about this? It’d be your first time and everything.”

“Well, you did it that way.”

“I’m insane.”

“Me too! We have so much in common, honey.”

Gerard thought about it, because things couldn’t be fixed so easily. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’ll have a fun memory”, Frank made it sound simple. “And I’m going to propose something else until we either solve it or you get sick of me. How’s that?”

“It… sounds unfair, somehow?”

“It’s not. I just hate waiting. Please don’t make me wait anymore. Let’s try this, you won’t have to see my face if you don’t want to.”

He couldn’t believe how needy Frank seemed, like he had just let go of what he had been holding back before. To be honest, he liked seeing this new side of him… and yes, maybe he wanted to discover more.

“C’mon, Gee”, he insisted after a few seconds of silence. So impatient. “Don’t you wanna see my tattoos again?”

Gerard bit his bottom lip and swallowed hard. “You’re playing dirty.”

“I’ll play however I have to. I can make it dirtier if that’d convince you.”

“Shit, no. Fuck”, he complained. There was still work left to do on his desk and he felt weird getting horny when things were still a bit weird. “That’s enough, I’ll… fine, yeah, let’s do it. I’m in.”

He heard Frank celebrating on the other side of the line and could picture him perfectly raising his fist as a victory sign. How had Gerard missed how much of a nerd Frank was? “I’ll make the appointment!”, he offered, excited. “Friday at 18:00?”

“Sure”, Gerard replied. “Gotta get back to work now. Tell Sweet Pea I said hi.”

He had to laugh out loud after hearing Frank barking at his dog.

***

On Friday at exactly 17:00, Gerard checked his phone and noticed two things. The first one: No one had backed out of the appointment. The second one: Now that he was topping, he had an extra thirty minutes to do whatever he wanted. Maybe shower, maybe jerk off, maybe have an existential crisis. Perhaps he could cry in the shower while jerking off and reach the nirvana of multitasking. 

Surely this event should make him anxious, it was the perfect storm. Getting out of his basement + doing something he hadn’t done before + facing someone who he had a conflict with. Boy, his brain knew it was time to turn off and refuse to fulfill any basic human functions, but the truth was he actually felt good. He was excited in a good way. He even felt hopeful about things turning out alright.

On one hand, he and Frank had gone back to talking during those days, only short messages, Frank taking advantage of Sweet Pea to wish him a good day and Gerard commenting on the songs he kept sharing, which had gradually shown an improvement in his mood.

Also the idea of what they were going to do had been settling in Gerard's head. And between his legs. He had lost count on how many times he masturbated thinking about it and he wasn’t proud about using Frank’s pictures as material. He knew he could’ve gotten new ones if he had asked Frank, but he didn’t want to abuse his power.

Wow. He had _power_ now?

Okay, on the other hand, maybe he had been abducted by aliens who changed him for a more confident version of himself. If that was the case and any of the aliens were watching him: Thank you, aliens. You guys are the true heroes.

Gerard chose to just shower. He didn’t feel like crying. He could have gone for touching himself, but he had been holding it in all day to enjoy it later with Frank. As a way to kill time, he washed his hair, going as far as to use shampoo, which meant getting pink water on his shoulders. It wasn’t as bad as the murder scene he got the first time he washed it after dying it, but it was still something. He would probably go back to black in a few weeks. Unless Frank had a different opinion… Was he going to become the kind of person who let his boyfriend have a say on his appearance? 

_Oh._ Boyfriend. Huh.

Nope, he would have to go back to that thought after fuckin’. He couldn’t be trusted when his dick was in charge.

He went back to his room drying himself off on a towel and approached his outfit designated area. Yes, of course his clothes were clean, he had picked them out specially for that day even though he had no idea what the outcome would be. Frank had said he didn’t have to see his face if he didn’t want to, but of course he would. And he was going to look HOT while doing it.

Although he still had some extra time, he preferred to be outside rather than inside. Probably the opposite of what was going to be like in the glory-hole. HA. Comedy gold. He was on fire.

Half an hour later he was entering the building through the main doors, feeling like a Rockstar. Why? No idea, maybe because his head was filled with new material for jokes, since this was a new perspective.

“Mr. Way, good to see you”, Judas greeted him. Meaning, Claire. Actually, she wasn’t at fault, she had only been doing her job, so he wasn’t mad at her anymore. “Follow m--”

“Hi Claire, I’m here for my appointment.”

“Yes, I kn--”

“18:00, I’m a bit early.”

“It’s okay, right t--”

“TOP. 18:00, top”, he dramatically took off his sunglasses. “I’m here to top.”

Claire sighed and gave him a few seconds. “Are you done?”

“Yeah, thanks. Let’s go.”

He followed Claire down the hall and even though the last time he was there it wasn’t… well, his best moment, the feeling he had now was far away from unpleasant. He felt back at the beginning, so hopeful and filled with curiosity, but also accompanied somehow. He knew who was going to be with him on the other side of the wall. Frank. Gorgeous Frank. Gorgeous and understanding Frank. Gorgeous, understanding and _kinda kinky_ Frank.

“Is it the same room as before?”, he asked once the door was opened for him.

“Yes, it’s always been the same one.”

Gerard looked around, trying to picture Frank being there in all their encounters. Before he could step in further, Claire handed him a tablet. “Oh. Rules?”

“He made a list”, she smiled.

On the screen he found what he already knew: _“No whipping, no calling me daddy”_ -did he think he was going to press the mic button just to say that?- _“No balloons. No making me wait too much”_ -that was a new one, but it made sense, and then came: _“LUBE!!”_ in all caps and two exclamation points, so he knew Frank was being aggressive about it. 

Of course at the end he had added: _“And no taking pictures, perv.”_

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I wasn’t going to!”, he complained to the tablet and gave it back to Claire. “Okay, I’ve been instructed. What else?”

“You have one hour. Remember condoms are mandatory. Enjoy your experience, Mr. Way.”

“Thank you, Claire.”

The woman closed the door behind her and left Gerard alone. He walked to the center of the room, getting a good look on this side of the wall. It had a lot of more free products than the other side and he felt a genuine discrimination against bottoms.

He obviously forgot all about his formal complaint when he was presented with Frank’s ass. There it was, in all its glory and majesty… 

A box. 

Frank was standing on a box. 

Fuck. Oh no. There was no way to hold his laugh. Mystery solved, at last! Oh, poor Frank. He had used a box. Gerard was losing his shit.

“HEY”, he suddenly heard. “Add no laughing to the list, fucker!”

He reached the button and pressed it. “Sorry! The box is too cute!”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Gerard bit his lips and tried to stop, which was easier once he had another huge discovery. “So you could hear me?!”

“A little”, Frank said. 

“Soundproof my ass.”

“Your ass wasn’t loud, it was your mouth.”

“Okay, we’re done with the talking.”

“Don’t make me wait!”

He let go of the button, making a superhuman effort to ignore the box and just focus on the object of his affections. Frank’s ass. At his disposal. How the tables had turned. 

He would’ve loved to show some more dignity, but he wasn’t known for having it, so why try this late in the story, right? It took like two seconds for him to get on his knees and hug Frank’s thighs, resting his cheek on… Frank’s cheek. His breathing was speeding up, he couldn’t believe he was finally there. It didn’t matter how it happened, love wins. He rubbed his face against his skin until his lips were touching him and proceeded to spread kisses all around, just as he had wanted to do when seeing his ass for the first time. Yes, it was love at first sight.

It didn’t take much time for the kisses to turn into straight on licking where he traced his stupid and sensual tattoos. Gerard could feel Frank getting impatient, despite the silence. He felt him pushing back, probably asking for him to do more. Had Gerard behaved that way? Yeah, he was sure of it. He had been on the other side and understood how it felt to be asking for things he couldn’t say out loud.

That gave him pretty good insight on what Frank could want right now, and Gerard was going to give it to him. He really didn’t mean for that experience to be punishment for either of them, so he continued, spreading his cheeks open and getting his tongue to work. Although he still wasn’t an olympic medallist in oral pleasuring, he thought he was on his way compensating with his enthusiasm, because he didn’t hesitate to lick everything within his reach and even added some hard-mode moves, like twirling his tongue inside of him and bobbing his head so it felt like fuckin’. Spit ran down his chin and he didn’t care, there was too much of it anyway. Frank’s ass made his mouth water.

He considered just living there. Simply leaving everything behind and devoting himself to eating ass 24x7. There was nothing else he wanted from life. His sustent would be feeling how Frank’s thighs trembled. Unfortunately for his plan, he was getting too hard inside his way-too-tight-for-it jeans. What a moron, why did he choose those pants? He was forced to let Frank’s ass go to undo his button and fly, although he kept kissing and breathing on his wet skin.

He lowered his jeans and underwear, standing up to remove them completely and also looking for what he would need for the next step. That was an impressive selection of condoms, but he just took the regular one, ripping it open and sliding it on his boner immediately. Better be ready.

Then it was time to look at the infinite options of lubricant, so he went for the one that seemed familiar: skull package. They knew each other, they were friends. Now it would go in Frank’s ass.

He rushed to get behind him again, touching his sides so he knew he wasn’t making him wait. It was a bit funny to know that was a ‘no-no’ for him, since Gerard was feeling impatient too. They had a full hour to enjoy, but… that ass. No way he could wait any longer.

He coated his fingers with lube and brought them to circle his asshole. That was the part he was most confident about, because he had fingered himself enough to know how to stretch him without any pain. And they would need to be patient about it, but he was enjoying the view of his fingers going in and out of him, moving them around to graze his prostate and watching how his body trembled at his touch. 

Frank already had three fingers inside of him when he began pushing back, asking for more.

That was it. Wow, he was a little nervous. He had to remind himself Frank could tell him if he did anything wrong, but maybe it would’ve been better to do it for the first time without a wall between them. Or perhaps he would’ve been more nervous having Frank looking at him. Eh, well, time to take chances as they came.

He removed his fingers and got more lube on himself, then using his hand to guide his cock to Frank’s asshole, which looked pretty relaxed already and open. It made him feel more confident to go in. He held his hip with his free hand while entering, trying his best to go slowly, because it felt amazing. Seriously. Maybe everybody already knew that, but Gerard hadn’t until that moment and a moan began on his throat and ended up as a pretty loud: “THANK YOU, FRANK, THANK YOU!” as he bottomed out.

“MOVE ALREADY!”, he heard from the other side.

“SAY PLEASE!”

“FUCK YOU!”

“FUCK _YOU!”_

With a dumb grin on his face, he gripped his hips and started thrusting into him, still slowly. Of course he wanted to be careful with Frank, but also with himself, because being surrounded by his heat and feeling his tight ass around his cock was honestly enough for him to cum right now and he had to, HAD TO, last more than three minutes. Maybe he owed an apology letter to that guy.

As a preventive measure, he moved a hand to the front and touched Frank’s dick, which was hard and leaking, throbbing even on his fingers. And if that wasn’t enough confirmation, hearing him moaning was enough to make him speed things up. He was going in and out of him at a good pace.

He tried to contain his own sounds by biting his lips so he could listen to Frank’s, but it didn’t work. They were both being way too loud. Luckily he was still able to hear a “HARDER!” from the other side and he smiled to himself. They were _SO_ destined for each other. Yes, gross.

Gerard stopped jerking him off to get both hands on his hips again and started pounding into him without holding back. He was pushing Frank onto the table each time he entered his ass again and their thighs made slapping sounds, but the feeling was insane. He was getting too close to his orgasm. And getting filled with admiration for Frank and his ability to multitask in those situations.

He made the effort to get a hand back to his cock and he could barely manage to give it a couple of useless strokes, when suddenly Frank came on his fingers. The feeling of him cumming and how his hole clenched around him made him moan louder. His thrusts got desperate searching for the friction he needed for his own release and in a few seconds he spilled his load. Romantic.

He allowed himself a moment so the room would stop spinning. Shit, he felt like he had cum his brains out. Really romantic.

As careful as possible, he pulled out and got rid of the condom, getting a few napkins to wipe his hand. The experience was over, in theory. Just in theory.

Gerard took a sharpie out of his jeans on the floor. No, he hadn’t planned for it, he was a professional illustrator, he always carried pens around. Well, okay, maybe that idea had been living rent free in his head for a while.

He approached Frank again, placed a hand on his ass and used the other one to write GERARD under the tattoo that said ‘Your name here’; he admired his work feeling too proud of himself and just because he was a jerk too, he gave him a slap.

Now he was done.

***

Among so many things Frank had to think about after the session ended, the truth is that none stood out. He was too eager for what was going to happen now, so he barely made a goodbye gesture for Claire and went straight to open the door and get out of the building, holding his breath. He didn’t know if Gerard was going to be waiting for him.

His heart had peace when he saw a redhead. 

“I take it you’re okay with my face now?”

“I love your face”, Gerard said, smiling. Frank had never been happier to see him smile so carefree. “Can I kiss it?”

He felt a flutter in his stomach that made it impossible to reply with something witty, so he chose to yank his shirt and clash their mouths and teeth together, which made them laugh. Their lips soon found each other and knew where and how to touch. He had never needed a kiss as bad as in that moment. It was like they hadn’t just had sex.

“Should we go back in there?”, Frank joked.

“I like you a lot, but I don’t think I can get it up again so soon.”

“Had fun, huh?”,he asked.

“Sure did. Topping’s really great. You should try it sometime.”

“I think I will, if my partner’s up to bottoming ever again.”

“He will”, Gerard winked.

After the initial laughs, it was time to look at each other in silence and wonder what was going to happen next. They clearly felt good about the switch in their roles, but there were things left to discuss and they couldn’t keep relying on joking around. Of course Frank was the first one to speak.

“Hey, so…”, he held Gerard’s hand. “My parents are out of town, I gotta get back and walk Sweet Pea and you could join me if you want. She’s been asking about you.”

“What a needy bitch.”

“NO, Gerard, don’t--”

“Just like her owner.”

Frank squeezed his hand. “Hope you’re proud of yourself.” Gerard couldn’t hold in his laugh and rubbed his face.

“I’m not, I regretted it as I was saying it”, he got closer and kissed his cheek as a peace offering. “I’d love to join you and… you know, talk. About stuff. And shit. And stuff. Sorry for calling you a bitch.”

“Never”, Frank said. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Are we walking?”, he asked. “Are you good to walk? Oooh, I JUST got that”, he gave himself a facepalm, remembering that time a few weeks ago Frank had made the same question.

“We’re not walking, we’re taking the bus.”

Gerard nodded and once they stood at the bus stop, Frank grabbed his arm and got closer to tell him something that seemed to have been wandering in his mind for a few minutes. “You…”, he started saying and looked him in the eyes. “Wrote on me.”

“Uh. Yes”, Gerard had to admit. There was no way to deny it. “Is it going on the no-no list?”

“No, I… kinda liked it.”

They both smiled. Gerard had a few similar ideas and seeing how much they really had in common was way too exciting.

“We should get married.”

“You’re such a dumbass.”

***

Gerard gave Sweet Pea extra pats and belly rubs as he apologized for what he had said while Frank laughed, saying she would never forget. Truth be told, that dog seemed too old to even remember its own name, but Gerard didn’t mention it. He had already used up his quota of offending Frank’s pet for a day.

Frank leashed his dog and they walked over to a nearby park, where they held hands again. Gerard had never held someone’s hand for so long. He hoped he was doing okay. At times he worried his arm was too stiff or didn’t know if their fingers should intertwine, but watching Frank next to him was enough to get distracted.

“Okay, let’s not put it off any longer”, Frank suddenly said. “We like each other, we’ve had sex, we get along great. Right?”

“Right!”, Gerard answered. “I like these easy questions.”

“Great, here’s a hard one: What do you want from this?”

“Shit”, Gerard looked in front of him, giving it a real thought. And he obviously went to a place where he should say -maybe repeat- he didn’t know anything about relationships, that he had never been in love before, until he noticed there was no need for excuses. The question was ‘what do you want’, not ‘why you won’t be good at it.’ “You know what? I’ll just say it. I hate playing it cool. I don’t want to try to do it anymore. I want to message you whenever I feel like it and not wait until it seems chill. I have like NO chill at all, I don’t want to pretend that I do. I just… I want to see you more often, hang out and do stuff together and not worry about seeming needy, you know?”

“I understand what you’re saying, yeah”, Frank smiled a bit. “Anything else?”

“Yeah!”, he replied, encouraged by him and ready to spill his guts some more. “I want you to send me pics, not like sexual, but… well, sexual if you want, but just send me whatever you want whenever you think of me and I’ll do the same. And I want us to have stupid petnames for each other, call me honey or sweetheart or whatever. I want to exchange playlists, I want to know your favorite songs, I want to kiss and hold hands in public, and gross out my brother and introduce you to my parents, and exchange Christmas presents and…”

“Gee… babe”, Frank called, stopping to stand in front of him and place a hand on his cheek. Gerard smiled at being called ‘babe’. Yeah, he liked being someone’s ‘babe’. Frank’s _babe._ “Breathe.”

“Is it too much? Sorry… I didn’t know I could be so corny.”

“No!”, he rushed to say, apparently very worried about Gerard getting the wrong idea even for just a second. “No, no, it’s not too much. It’s… It gives me chills how much I want just the same.”

“Seriously? You don’t have to force yourself…”

“I’m not. I swear. I’ve always wanted someone to share everything with. And when I think that could be you, I just… shit, I wish I had better words to describe it”, he laughed. “You know I’ve been with other people, I’ve been in relationships, long ones even, where I thought: this is it. And I also wondered: is _this_ it? Am I going to be holding back on loving too much forever because my partner will think I’m insane?”

“That sounds awful. I don’t want you to hold back.”

“See? That’s why I like you. You give me all I need and don’t even realize it. And I won’t hold back. I promise”, he declared, getting on his tiptoes to kiss him. “There will be absolutely no room in this relationship for chill, okay?”

“Okay”, Gerard said, holding his gaze. “This is the most embarrassing conversation we’ve ever had.”

“Yup. We’re gross.”

Gerard cupped his face with both his hands and kissed him again. “So, just to get a verbal confirmation: We’re dating now.”

“We are. You’re my boyfriend, and I’m yours, and we won’t be having a wall between us anymore.”

“Poetic.”

Sweet Pea pulled on her leash to remind them they were supposed to be walking her. Frank laughed and resumed their walk, pulling on Gerard’s hand too. His boyfriend.

“But we can do it again sometime, right? Just for fun?”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

***

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT. IS. DONE.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who dared to read a WIP! I hope waiting wasn't so bad for you. I couldn't have done it without all of you encouraging me, so thank you from the bottom of my heart. Also thank you to all of my friends who had to read my awful Spanglish while I was working on it.
> 
> So, what's next? First of all, please welcome [GLORY-HOLEVERSE](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921372), where I'll be posting some PWP one-shots because I'm not ready to leave this AU.
> 
> Secondly, everyone who agreed to the blood pact, please go to the next room and read my new story: [Settle for me.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26378749/chapters/64252543) C'mon, let's go, don't make me sue you.
> 
> And if you haven't read it, I also wrote a very dumb one-shot: [The Ballad of Gerard Way.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313820)
> 
> That's it! Hope you had fun. And you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kitoko69). 😻😻😻

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the wonderful friend who introduced me to this fandom. ♡

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Longview](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500504) by [Bulletproof_Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulletproof_Heart/pseuds/Bulletproof_Heart)




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